Savior
by The-Stupidest-Author-Ever
Summary: During a violent battle for Old Mombasa, John-117 finds an abandoned boy. But he is more than what he seems. He owns a power. A power that the Covenant wants. Will Earth's legendary soldier be able to protect him? Can Ian, the world's most unique human, bear the fate of humanity?
1. Chapter 1

**A unique Halo fanfiction I wanted to make, mostly re-encouraged by the showing/release of Halo 4. I consider myself a fan as I have played the trilogy more times than I care to count and played a couple other Halo games, but after looking into Halo universe and this website, I don't know shit. So I apologize for any inaccurate information, but I'm doing research for fun and for this story, so hopefully my knowledge will improve later on.**

**This takes place through the events of Halo 2, mostly because it was while I was playing that game I got the idea and to work with something almost everyone's familiar with. Leave reviews of what you think.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but OCs**

**Warnings: Minor swearing but explicit violence and death, situations of angst**

* * *

The Master Chief grunted as he pushed the Elite in front of him away. The alien gave an outraged roar. It charged again, determined for the final blow, but by now the Master Chief was annoyed. As the monster closed in, the Spartan drove the snout of his battle rifle into its four-jawed mouth and fired.

A spray of blood shot from the back of its head, splattering across the ground. The Elite gagged, but it was cut short as its emerald-green eyes glazed. And with that, the massive seven foot beast slumped forward before crumbling altogether in heap.

As the Elite fell, the Master Chief yanked his gun out and repositioned it in his hands. He sighed, seeing the threat was neutralized.

"Well that was close," Cortana commented.

"Humph," her protector grunted in response, not really feeling like talking.

He heard the shouts of victories from his comrades further down the block. After crash-landing in Sector 0-5 from being shot down by a stubborn Scarab, the raggedy group of UNSC soldiers was slowly making their way through the city. They were now battling enemy forces within the narrow streets, carefully attempting to avoid snipers and ambushes, but that was easier said than done. They tried sticking together, but it seemed every few seconds chaos would explode, having everyone go their separate ways.

And the Spartan didn't know if it was his paranoia or what, but it seemed like every time they successfully regrouped, there seemed to be one less soldier. He could only wish they could get to this damn hotel soon.

The other Pelican was also shot down and crashed onto the shoreline, killing half of the crew including the pilots. Luckily for the survivors, there was a hotel nearby, perfect for strategic advantage. Though unfortunately Covenant had found them, and they were quickly being overwhelmed. Thankfully, Cortana was wise to check their status, where they informed of their dilemma and sent for the Master Chief and his squadron to their direction.

With several alien corpses surrounding him and no sign of any living, he decided it would be a good idea to find the others. Once again they were spread out.

Reloaded rifle in hand, he set out for the calls of his comrades. He kept a controlled stride and peering eyes, waiting for any surprises. It turned out to be worth it as halfway to his destination, he heard a frantic wail for help down the street. He looked to his right to an alleyway, where the sound had come from.

He didn't see anything, but he didn't care. No marine left behind.

And with that, he turned his course down the shadowed and abandoned realm. The super-soldier was going the right direction as the yells increased in volume and frequency, even though the voice was frail.

"Help! Somebody help!" the poor marine cried.

Naturally the Master Chief sped up his pace, eager to find him. Finally he reached the end of the alley without any trouble to find himself in a small clearing covered in dirt. Once again he looked to his right, where he found the problem.

It was in fact a marine, but poor shmuck was young, maybe only nineteen at least. He had light brown buzz-cut hair with brilliant green eyes. His helmet was gone with half of his supplies. The source of his dilemma was the giant chunk of debris stuck on his legs. It seemed to be a piece of equipment, like part of a car or something. Looking around, the Master Chief noticed a slaughtered Elite collapsed against a pile of junk similar to the one on top of the marine. The Spartan quickly put the situation together: the marine was fighting the Elite until he probably gave the final blow, but only for the corpse to fall onto some unstable wreckage and send it falling onto both of them.

The traumatized marine screamed for a couple more moments until he finally noticed the Master Chief. Immediately a look of surprise and pure relief crossed his face. The Spartan decided to tell him of his intentions.

"Hold on," he assured, "I'll get you out."

The victim could only nod slowly. As his savior settled down next to him, he asked, "Does it hurt?"

"N-no, I don't think so," the rookie stammered. "I just can't get out."

"This kid's just out of training," Cortana muttered to the Chief.

He muttered in agreement. It sounded stupid the guy was screaming just for an unfortunate problem, but the Chief understood his fear. It was natural for rookies to suffer pure panic and paranoia of being abandoned, left to suffer a horrible death. Even he himself had such an experience. But the kid didn't realize that his yelling could've done more harm than good. The Covenant had better senses than humans, so it was more likely they were to hear him before his allies. They would come to him, no doubt, but merely to "put him out of his misery."

Bearing that in mind, the Master Chief stood back up to take care of the problem. In one fluid movement, he grabbed the piece of equipment and threw it off, sending it several feet away. The marine gave a short gasp of amazement of the Spartan amazing strength, but then proceeded to let out a sigh of relief that he was free. Once that was done, the Chief observed the soldier's legs.

He was impatiently shuffling them, showing they were intact, save for the dozens of scrapes and bruises that tattered his pants. He also had some wounds from his showdown with the Elite, but other than that he was fine. The Chief let himself get impressed by that. The marine was only a kid, but to take down an enemy twice his size and strength on his own was quite a feat. The Spartan would be sure to compliment him on that at a later time.

"Let's get out of here," he advised.

"Yes, sir," the rookie agreed.

He quickly shuffled to his feet and began to follow his superior back the way they came. But they never got there.

Just when the Master Chief was about to step into the alley, a savage war cry racked the humans' eardrums. Cortana gave a shout of warning immediately followed by a dismayed cry, having the Chief whirl around. What he saw only made a deep pit form in his stomach.

An Elite with violet armor had appeared out of nowhere and had gotten the marine. He held the kid in a headlock with one arm and the other aiming a plasma pistol at the Spartan. It was obvious his prisoner was captured by fear yet again and wanted nothing to do but resist, but he was well aware he was immobile and would result in death.

"Let the kid go," the Chief hissed, even though he knew the Elite couldn't understand him.

But the alien must of have had an idea though, because its eyes gleamed with malice and its mandibles seemed to curl in a smile. It knew what the human wanted, and it was not planning to go along. Before the Master Chief could react, the Elite grabbed hold of the teenager's face and in a single motion, twisted his head. There was the sickening snap of bone as his neck was snapped before much like the Elite from earlier, he crumbled into a twisted corpse.

Captured by rage, the usually controlled legend began to open fire. The Elite yelped as the bullets struck at his armor, but his energy shields saved him from certain death, allowing him to leap out of the way. He fired back, actually striking the Chief's armor. But the soldier's own energy shield protected him from getting any real damage. He continued to fire, actually getting the alien between the gaps of his armor. The creature let out shouts of pain at this, but the hunger for battle in its eyes only increased.

The Chief fired until to his dismay, the battle rifle ran out of ammo. He had another pack to reload it with, but he didn't have time as the Elite was charging, this time two blue plasma rifles in his hands. Hoping to throw his opponent off, the Spartan tossed his now-useless gun at his face. Thankfully it worked as the alien faltered, allowing the Spartan to snatch his SMG from his belt and open fire.

A hailstorm of flashing bullets shot from the barrel, depleting the Elite's shields in seconds and tearing into his armor. With one last roar, the beast's body submitted to the forceful attack. The tower fell down on its back, dead.

Immediately the haze that covered the Spartan's eyes was gone, allowing him to stop mid-shoot and lower his weapon. Then ignoring his surroundings, he allowed his numb body to take him to marine's side. His neck was bent at an unnatural angle, but other than that he was intact despite being ambushed by powerful monster. The Master Chief shook his head.

"There was nothing you could have done," Cortana persisted.

"No, that isn't true," the man argued solemnly.

Despite years of endless combat and formed into a hardened soldier, the one thing the veteran could never adjust to were the deaths of his comrades. Especially the ones in front of his eyes. Especially the ones that were only innocent kids who wanted nothing but to protect and serve.

The Master Chief snapped his head back in place and closed his half-open eyes. He tugged his dog tags off his neck and turned away, heading back to his original mission. He hated leaving him behind, but there was nothing left to be done. He could only hope that soon his body would be collected.

His journey was slow back to his squadron, but he found them altogether. But he noticed that two seemed to missing this time. The group's sergeant made his way over to him.

"There you are," he greeted with relief. "We were looking all over for you. Were you've been?"

In answer, the Master Chief simply let the dog tags in his hand flashed. Immediately the entire group understood, the sergeant wearing the deepest frown of all. Without a word, they moved on, this time being even more careful to stick together.

* * *

**Just FYI I'm going to have the Master Chief have a little more emotion in this story. I do agree he's a hardened soldier like I said in the script, but I refuse to believe that he's a heartless machine. Plus it's hinted he can be a softie. And yes, I do know his real name, but I believe calling him that even though it's from his point-of-view it's too personal.**

**I was originally going to wait a little longer for this fanfiction, but with Veteran's Day I decided it would be a good tribute. My heart goes out to all those who serve our country, deceased or alive, and like to thank our troops for keeping our country safe.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry for the long update! I've been busy. But from now on I'll try to make weekly updates. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

All that could be heard in the lonely hallway was the rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps of boots and the gentle clanking of gear. Two UNSC marines calmly walked through the almost pitch-black corridor, loaded weapons in hand.

They were on one of the upper floors of Hotel Zanzibar. Luckily, they were fortunate to have crash-landed right next to the structure, having it serve them as a fortress. The relief didn't last long though as every five minutes, a new wave of Covenant would attack.

But for now the invasions have dialed down, giving the survivors time to regroup and reorganize. This included the order for a couple small teams to search the hotel for anything of use and for any surprises. So far nothing.

"You think we should go back down stairs?" the less experienced soldier asked softly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they're fine," his senior assured. "We'll head back down once the fireworks start."

They walked a couple more minutes in silence until they came to a lone door in the center of the hallway's wall. The senior motioned the other to do the honors. The marine grabbed the handle and jiggled it, but the door wouldn't budge and the sound of something stuck reverberated. The rookie glanced at the man.

"It's locked," he announced, stating the obvious.

"I see that," the senior replied sarcastically.

He moved closer. Looked like a simple storage closest, but orders were to check everything. He was just about to give it a try until suddenly they both heard it. It was subtle and faint; almost making them second guess, but no. It sounded like a small shift of something: like a small box being pushed or something being brushed against. But they both came to the same conclusion: something was moving in there. And then the senior noticed something else.

He suddenly grabbed his partner's arm and pulled him away. He dragged his captive to the corner of the hallway, a good distance from the mystery door. The other marine was confused, but didn't protest.

"It's locked from the inside," the older one hissed. "I can tell."

His partner raised his eyebrows. There was no way the door could've been locked like that. Unless… The senior went on.

"Someone's in there."

"Who?"

"Let's find out."

And just like that, he whirled around to head back to the closest. The private was still dumbfounded, but pushed himself to cautiously follow him. The senior settled millimeters from the door while the other paused a few feet away. The marine pounded on the door.

"Hello?" he called. "Anyone in there?"

No answer. It made the marines slightly nervous. If it was a human, they would think they would happily show themselves to their savior. But it was Covenant, they would be more hesitant. Then again, no one could see a vicious alien locking themselves in a human closest. Another pounding.

"Hello? Is that you, Mr. Covenant? Or are you Mr. Human?"

The half-hearted joke had no effect. By now the soldier was getting slightly impatient. He suddenly had an idea. He repositioned his battle rifle in his hands and cocked it, making sure the sound could be heard.

"Well, I gotta know. Either tell me who you are or I'm coming in there. And you do _not _want me coming in there."

When for the third time nothing happened, the soldier repositioned to prepare to kick the door down. Something stopped him.

From the other side of the door, a shy, fearful voice whimpered, "Leave me alone…"

* * *

The Master Chief jogged up to the hotel's front, meeting the awaiting messenger halfway.

"Good to see you, sir," the young marine greeted, unable to hide his relief.

"Same here, soldier," Cortana replied, using the com-system to speak to the marine.

Like they expected, when the Master Chief's squadron found the hotel, they ran into a swarm of Covenant guarding it. Thankfully they were too focused on raiding the hotel to notice their approach, allowing the humans to dispatch their enemies easily. Now the next step was to find the person in charge.

"Where's your commander, private?" the Master Chief asked.

"Sergeant Diggins, sir," the private replied. "I believe he's—"

"Right here," a gruff voice interrupted.

Both turned to see a man in his forties, maybe, nearing them. He held his gun loosely, having it hang by his side. The sergeant was covered in grime and blood—both human and Covenant—and looked simply worn out. But he straightened when he neared his superior, trying his best to look decent.

"Boy, I'm glad you're here," he couldn't help but to confess.

The Master Chief gave a sympathetic chuckle. "What's your status?"

"Operational, but we're running low on supplies and my men are wearing out."

"Don't worry, I have a Pelican on the way," Cortana assured.

Just then a shout interrupted their conversation. The small group turned to see another young soldier sprinting toward them from inside the hotel. Beads of sweat lined his forehead and he panted, showing that he ran the whole way, but he was surprisingly together when he came up to them. He slowed to a stop next to them. He stole a glance at the legendary Master Chief before directing to his immediate superior.

"Sir, we may have a situation," he informed.

"And what's that?" Diggins demanded.

The runner hesitated. "Um, just come with me, sir."

* * *

The commanders followed the new private, Private Evans, upstairs. They blinked to find a hallway on one of the upper levels filled with people. But everyone was silent, except for the lone marine almost leaning against a single door. He was almost continuously talking.

"Look, we're not going to hurt you," he was insisting. "We'll protect you."

The newcomers paused next to an observer.

"What's going on?" Diggins asked.

"Smith and Jackson found somebody hiding," the soldier replied. "We think it's a kid. Ryan's trying to convince him to come out."

"Ryan's the group's medical and psych specialist," Cortana informed the Master Chief.

They continued on next to the "negotiator."

"Please—" he started, but was suddenly cut off.

"Just go away already!" a desperate voice wailed.

Ryan stepped back, a little surprise at the outburst. His audience shifted uncomfortably. When the man noticed his new guests, he turned to them.  
"He's too scared," he reported, stating the obvious.

"Well, we got to get him out," Diggins shot back. "We can't spend half-an-hour with everyone up here when we're about to be overrun by Covenant."

Ryan faltered, catching on to his superior's scolding that the situation was being treated poorly. Suddenly the men paused as the Master Chief barged between them, making his way to the door.

"Chief…" Cortana began.

The Spartan ignored her as he violently kicked the door. It immediately blasted open, creating a loud slamming noise with the hinges struggling to stay on. At the same time, a startled yelp sounded. The Master Chief peered inside only to see a dark void filled with housekeeping supplies, like everyone expected. Not seeing signs of a roaring Elite or a screaming Grunt, he cautiously stepped inside. His gaze immediately fell on a single figure.

It was a boy, probably in his preteen years. He was curled in a ball hugging his knees in the far corner. He had raven black hair with loose strands almost covering his emerald green eyes. His jeans and T-shirt were tattered after who-knows-what-he's-been-through. His eyes were filled with fear as he stared at the giant towering over him, trembling and whimpering. Each of the Chief's steps sounded like a slam.

He neared the boy, increasing his stress, but paused before he invaded the kid's personal space. He slowly lowered himself to a crouch and made himself eye level with the little one. He cautiously held out his hand. This caused the boy to blink.

"Come on," the Chief whispered in the softest voice he could manage. "No one's going to hurt you."

The boy was motionless and stared at the hand blankly. Finally he began moving his arm. Like time was slowed, his small hand slowly made its way to the Chief's. He placed it in the man's palm, where the latter carefully lapsed his fingers over the new hand.

All it took was the Master Chief standing up was to get the boy to his feet also. He seemed startled, even flinching, but forced his tense muscles to relax. He pulled his hand back to his side and began staring blankly again.

"What's your name?" the Spartan asked.

The boy was silent for a few moments. Finally he craned his neck to look up at the super-solder.

"I-Ian. My name is Ian."


	3. Chapter 3

"Phantom, on approach!" a soldier cried.

The Master Chief perked his head up from where he was taking a catnap. Marines surrounding him that had tried to follow his lead were already on their feet. Diggins materialized from a nearby hallway.

"Get ready, boys!" he called.

He grabbed a couple pistols from his belt and headed towards the back of the hotel. The Master Chief snatched his own weapons and followed him. They jogged down a couple dark hallways before outside light shined from a corridor up ahead. Diggins moved forward to jump around the corridor's corner, but suddenly started.

"Whoa!" he yelped, leaping back.

Immediately two large Elites materialized from the light. The leading one swiped at his head like it was trying to rip it off. Thankfully Diggins was able to scramble out of the way, but not in time when the second fired its plasma rifle at him. He wailed in pain as the hot plasma struck his arm. He was able to aim his pistol back at the beast and shoot, returning the favor. The Elite stumbled back with snarl.

By now the Master Chief had joined the action. A SMG in each hand, he began to open fire. The Elites didn't stand a chance. The intruders dead, the Chief looked over his shoulder to see Sergeant Diggins picking himself up, groaning.

"I'm fine," he assured, "Go on ahead."

With more soldiers by his side, the Master Chief went back to their destination. The group stepped out just in time to see the Phantom settle nearby… and aim all gunners at them. The humans ducked for cover, red plasma scorching anything it hit.

The Master Chief pushed ahead to where the enemy ship was dropping its load, using the ruins of a wall for cover. The tower was in a crouch as burning plasma spilled over the wall over his head, each strike accompanied by a roar. Over the noise, he heard the impatient nearing of Covenant soldiers.

A Grunt made the mistake of walking the head of the group. He had just rounded the corner and wasn't even aware of the Spartan's presence before his tiny skull was bashed in. His comrades quickly followed, eager to avenge his death. They were disappointed when they came face to face with a Spartan, and more humans firing from their positions. The invading party was defeated quickly.

There were cheers of victory and laughs of relief. Over the light-hearted celebration, the Master Chief heard a roar of an engine nearing. He looked over a nearby railing to see a Warthog, speeding towards them. At first the Spartan was confused, but then heard a familiar wail. His gaze snapped up to peer at the end of the road the Warthog appeared from, only to see two speeding Covenant Ghosts.

He didn't have to yell for the marines to follow his gaze and recognize the threat. Immediately the humans lined the railing, all weapons aimed. As the enemy made the mistake of speeding closer, too caught up in their hunt, everyone opened fire as one.

The roar was accompanied by ripping armor and blood-curdling screams. It was a matter of seconds before the air was filled with a wail as the remains of the totaled Ghosts lost all power and collapsed. Their riders could barely be picked out in wreckage.

"That's what's I'm talking about, baby!" a solider cheered, quickly being followed by his comrades.

The Master Chief pulled away and scrambled down the remains of the bridge that hung over the road to the Warthog, which had halted next to the hotel. There was a lone soldier in the vehicle, the driver. The Spartan noticed crimson blood on other parts of the armored truck.

"What happened?" he asked the driver.

"Ambush," he replied. "Killed my gunner. Almost didn't get out of there alive, then those Ghosts came after me. You guys saved me, thanks."

The Master Chief nodded. He moved to go back to the other marines, but suddenly Cortana spoke.

"Chief, there are Covenant forces covering the entire beach."

"This is relevant because…"

"Well, _aren't _we already at the beach?"

The Spartan grinned slightly under his helmet. He looked back to the driver.

"I'm going to need your car," he purred.

The marine grinned back at him. "Go right ahead."

The shorter person scrambled out of the seat and went around the Chief to settle on the turret at the back. The Master Chief moved to jump in until a shy voice called, "I want to come."

He looked over his shoulder to see none other than Ian, who was hovering on the edge of the scene. He still had the meek look to him, but the Spartan noticed the determination surfacing in his eyes. Even though, he wasn't going to be convinced that easily.

"No," the super-soldier replied. "It's way too dangerous."

Ian's eyes narrowed in stubbornness. "I can help!"

"How?"

The boy suddenly faltered and looked down, trying to think of a useful talent he had but couldn't. His body went limp in defeat. Like nothing ever happened, the Master Chief climbed in the driver's seat and took the wheel. After a brief conversation with Cortana, he looked at a marine who was nearing.

"The Pelican's not far away," the Spartan informed him. "Take everyone here and as many supplies you can salvage."

After the soldier nodded and a volunteer entered the vacant passenger seat, the Master Chief pressed on the gas and sent the Warthog flying onto the beach. He made a quick thought of Ian, wondering of his backstory and his welfare, but it was only a matter of moments before that was the last thing to worry about.

* * *

"What are you waiting for, an invitation? Get in here, you asses!" Sergeant Major Johnson mocked, pushing the ragged marines to pick the pace.

Ian tried to stand out of the way as the soldiers scrambled to pick up supplies and cram them into the Pelican. Marines carried their wounded comrades, taking careful motions to move them. Sergeant Diggins was directing the "evacuation" alongside Johnson, once again strong on his feet.

The Master Chief's promise was fulfilled as only a few minutes after he left, a large Pelican came in with the sole purpose of picking up the group of abandoned soldiers. The Pelican was under possession of a high-ranking officer, Sergeant Major Johnson himself. At first Ian wondered if the Pelican was large enough for them all, but he realized there were only over a dozen soldiers left, and that was _after_ the squadrons mixed. And the supplies weren't that much: just boxes of useful tools and what was left of their gear.

As Diggins was giving orders to his men, his eyes fell on a valuable prize. Hooked to the back of the Pelican hanging in midair was a Warthog in almost perfect condition. His childish greed got the best of him.

"Yo, Johnson," he called.

The other man looked at him with a grunt.

"How much do I have to pay you for that ride?"

Johnson followed his gaze to the waiting vehicle. The same mischeavious look appeared on his face. "It's free."

Diggins turned around to find volunteers. He was usually a serious individual, but after years of being a prankster and a troublemaker, he _always_ found a way around the rules. And he didn't remember the Master Chief _directly_ ordering them to retreat. So what was the harm of sending a single car to tour around the city?

But as he looked around for a suitable soldier, he noticed Ian had actually overheard their conversation. And as he spied him, he saw the boy was eying the vehicle as well. But he realized it wasn't curiosity; it was the hint of envy and greed in his gaze, like a boy seeing a new video game that had been on his mind for a while. Hmm, maybe the kid wasn't as meek as he seemed. Oh, what the hell?

"Ian!"

The boy immediately perked his head up at the call, ripped from his thoughts. He looked over at Diggins, where the man nodded towards the Warthog, which had been disengaged and now resting on the ground. Ian quickly caught up to what the soldier had in mind. He gave him a look that said, _"You sure?"_

Sergeant Diggins nodded again with a mischievous gaze and smile. Actually seeing he was serious, Ian's face lit up with glee. He abandoned his lonely spot and raced towards the vehicle, where he joined the two other marine who had been chosen.

One took the driver's seat and the other the turret with Ian settled obediently in the passenger seat. When they confirmed everything was ready and their orders memorized, the driver guided the car away from the site and into the city.

* * *

The Warthog sped through the empty streets, its engine roaring and the tires scraping across the ground. The ride had been mostly quiet, no one really picking up conversation, especially with a kid in the car. Ian had been given the task to keep an eye out for anything suspicious, where he carried out his job in silence. His eyes were filled with curiosity and expectation, proving he actually was doing what he was supposed to do and keen to prove himself. But there was also the hint of something else there, like the boy was thinking of something else that brought him to another world entirely. Whatever it was, his companions decided not to ask.

Johnson and Diggins sent him off with a couple of warnings, but mostly put the responsibility of his welfare to his "babysitters." They hadn't even considered giving him protection of his own. But the driver took care of that with slipping him a magnum after they left. The kid needed something, and a well-trained soldier wasn't going to take the weight of his life. Ian accepted it with a shy smile.

"You know how to shoot?" the driver asked.

Ian replied with a curt nod, and the driver didn't ask for an explanation.

They continued on, each one focused on their jobs. They were surprised to find everything quiet: no civilians, no passing soldiers, not a trace of the Covenant. The travelers were beginning believe that the battle must have not gotten to this Sector yet. With that, the driver prepared to go to another part of the city. He never got the chance.

As he twisted the wheel to turn, a battle cry filled the air. Everyone immediately recognized the source. The driver panicked and tried to swerve in an evasive maneuver, but it was too late.

A glowing, fiery blue orb materialized in midair, disappearing under the Warthog front. Before the driver could react, the vehicle gave a massive jolt as a cloud of smoke and dispersing plasma engulfed them with a slap. The marine tried to correct the car, but Warthog was fighting multiple elements at once. Unable to keep up, the Warthog submitted to the force of the explosion, flipping over on its front.

The humans screamed as the world converted and their vision was filled with solid ground. The world jolted again and their bones rattled as the Warthog slammed onto the concrete upside down. The force threw the occupants onto the ground, their own vehicle on top of them. Thankfully though it was the armored car itself that protected them, as they were able to stay in their positions until it completed its flip.

The site was still for a moment. New smoke surrounded the victims, covering their vision. They stayed in place, hiding under the Warthog as they waited for the world to stop ringing and their orientation to return.

When it finally did, the driver crawled out only to be greeted with a purple beam striking the ground a millimeter from him. He immediately turned with his battle rifle and returned fire. His shot hit. The ex-turret operator was the next to come out, only to come face-to-face with Covenant forces. But with a SMG in each hand, he charged with a crazy yell.

Finally Ian scrambled out, still a little shaken from what was happening. But an icy calmness came over him when he realized he was needed. He raised his tiny gun, but a single voice stopped him.

"Why, hello, Ian…"


	4. Chapter 4

Ian's world froze. Impossible… His vision suddenly blurred: he barely saw what was before him. The blurred swirled as he turned, but focused when his senses found the source of the sound.

Standing a safe distance from him was an Elite, clad in gleaming golden armor. Its strange brown eyes stared at him, betraying signs of amusement. Its amusement was also shown from its relaxed pose and its mandible-like jaws curled in a weird grin.

"So, there you are," he called in perfect English **(or whatever language you speak)**. "We've been looking all over for you."

"How did you find me?" Ian demanded.

"You say it as if it's difficult."

Ian narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He hated how the creature so easily mocked him. Suddenly his body moved independently, even surprising himself. He found his entire body turning to face the alien, including—mostly—his outstretched arms hold the gun. His fingers were wrapped the weapon tightly. His vision blurred for a moment again when finally he realized he was aiming it directly at his enemy.

But the Elite was unfazed. He simply tilted head in curiosity.

"Hmm, so you're going to shoot me," the alien observed.

"You say it as if it's difficult," Ian shot back.

The Elite closed his eyes with an amused snort. When he opened them again, Ian noticed the calmness in his gaze. The alien spread his legs slightly and opened his arms.

"Come," he invited.

It was Ian's turn to cock an eyebrow and tilt his head. The alien was playing with him, no doubt, but how should he react? Even if it was  
something he hated, could he really kill so easily? He couldn't help but hesitate. But his decision was interrupted as suddenly a human shout sounded.

"Hey, Squid-Head!"

The ex-turret operator materialized by the edges of Ian's vision, charging at the golden tower. A dagger appeared in his hands and the human lunged forward to stab it in the Elite's armor. He was only made a fool.

Just before the shining metal touched the alien's armor, the Elite's oversized hands quickly snatched the human and plucked him from the ground. The man yelped as he was tossed like a sack of potatoes over the Elite's shoulders. He was slammed onto the ground with a wheeze.

"Do not interrupt," the Elite snorted. He turned back towards Ian. "So, Ian?"

Ian hesitated again, distracted by the intrusion. A single shout brought back him back to his senses.

"RUN, IAN!"

Without warning Ian's flight response kicked in. Dropping his weapon, he spun on his heels and lunged away from his enemy. The Elite shook his head and gave a disapproving chuckle as he watched the boy.

Ian felt like he didn't get two feet when suddenly an intense, burning sensation struck his arm. He screamed as it spread into his skin, as if it was eating it. He crumbled to his knees and fell onto his face. He suddenly felt ashamed he submitted so easily, but why shouldn't he? He wasn't used to war. He was surprised when the perpetrator continued to order his troops in human.

"Seize the human!" the golden-armored Shipmaster roared.

Suddenly Ian was aware of dozen presences surrounding him… nearing. He was well aware two regular marines couldn't save him. But he couldn't protect himself. He had been protected from the wrath of war all his life. He didn't know what to do.

The intense childish fear started to consume him, making him forget his current situation. He curled into a ball, his sore knees digging into the ground. He wrapped his arms over his head, burying his fingers in his hair.

His breath quickened rapidly as he imagined what was about to happen. He waited for a brute force to crush him or so many hands snatching him at so many directions he would be ripped apart. The figures came, nearer and nearer and nearer. With each step he heard Ian's heart quickened. Faster and faster and faster until it was thumping madly against his rips, desperately trying to escape.

Ian screamed.

Suddenly a strange sensation captured him, numbing his entire body. His subconscious knew what was happening, but he couldn't stop. He felt the numbness spreading to block out the entire world. Through the numbness Ian's sensed threads of feeling expanding into the air, like wires reaching out. Slowly he felt each of those wires attach to something.

For those surrounding him, they couldn't believe their eyes.

The Warthog's ex-driver lay on the ground, wounded, as he watched what unfolded before him. The surviving force of Covenant, which was a good ten to a dozen left, was slowly surrounding their prey like hungry wolves. But as they moved closer, Ian suddenly screamed without warning.

They watched as his body unusually stiffened, as if he turned into a human statue. But his body came to life as suddenly webbing spouted from his body. But this wasn't regular "webbing." They were crackling and jolting, reaching out like tired snakes that were also having a seizure. Electricity.

This electricity appeared like miniature versions of lightning, but it was a green, a similar shade to the Covenant's plasma. The surrounding aliens gasped and faltered at the sight. They paused as the electricity formed a small webbing around Ian's curled body. Then without warning, the electricity exploded, long green wires snapping in every direction.

Another scream escaped Ian, but this one had an unusually high-pitch to it and lingered into the air during the entire attack.

The Covenant tried to leap back, but it was too late. The electricity coiled around them, invading into their armor and sending sparks flying and their systems to malfunction. The very thing designed to protect them was destroying them. The aliens tried to use their weapons, but the technology was worse shape than them.

The electricity reached out to their surroundings as well. Suddenly a bolt struck an overhead lamppost, sending sparks, glass, and electricity everywhere with a _crash_. The phenomenon reached the Warthog, charring the armor and electrocuting the sensitive controls.

During the chaos the driver spied the golden Elite, which had seemed to be responsible for the whole thing. He stared on in surprise and awe: like he hoping something good would happen but never imagined it would be of this magnitude. When the Elite seemed to realize it was not worth sticking around, he began to turn away. But he never got the chance.

Ian's attack spread towards him and in a blink of an eye he was consumed. His scream mingled with Ian's. The tall tower looked like golden Christmas tree as an intense webbing of glowing light covered his body. In the same moment the electricity buried into his armor, making it malfunction worse than his comrades. The fallen marine swore smoke was rising from the charring metal.

And then as suddenly at it began, the electricity and its eerie green light disappeared from the world. The Shipmaster fell onto his back, his armor and body charred, his eyes glazed, and his four-parted jaws limp. He was dead.

As for the rest of the Covenant, some were dead, some were unconscious, and some of the stronger ones were able to pull themselves together to flee. Apparently their treatment wasn't as severe.

All that was left in the scene was Ian. He had stopped the screaming at the same time the attack disappeared. He was on his knees, looking at his surroundings with a wild look. It looked he himself had been electrocuted like on cartoons: his hair was mangy, his clothes torn, and his body going back and forth between twitchy and rigid.

He seemed to make an attempt to stand up, but stumbled when he got to a crouch. He once again fell on his face, unconscious.

* * *

The Master Chief's world was shaking violently. Loud claps of thunder and crashing drowned his hearing. A thickening screen of smoke was covering his vision. He was thankful that his oxygen-filtering helmet was protecting him from breathing it. Then suddenly with one final roar, everything stopped. The Scarab was dead.

The Master Chief waited for a few moments for his world to recollect. He stood in place, patiently waiting for his racing heart to calm and his breathing to regulate. When it finally did, he cautiously crawled out of the totaled Scarab and made his way to stable ground.

He looked on to the site of the silhouetted city against the reddening sky. Storm clouds and black smoke mixed and battled against the bright shades of the sun, making it look like some scene from hell. Humph, pretty fitting.

"Master Chief?" Miranda Keyes suddenly called in his com-link.

"Yes?" the soldier replied.

"We appear to have a situation. Return to the Frigate A-SAP. I sent a Pelican to pick you up."

"Yes, ma'am."

The Commander clicked off, leaving the soldier blinking and wondering what the emergency was about. She did her best to hide it with authority, but the Master Chief heard the traces that there was something _very_ wrong.

Well, the Covenant was on Earth. How worse could it get?

Tired from the long day's events, he turned and neared the lowering Pelican.


	5. Chapter 5

Sergeant Johnson rubbed his temples. "What happened exactly?"

"W-well, it's a little hard to explain…" the shaken marine replied.

"A LITTLE? You just described that a twelve-year-old—" Johnson was waving his arm to express his point, but suddenly faltered and rapidly shook his head. "I don't even know what to call it!" He gave the marine a suspicious glare. "Were you drunk or something?"

"Eh? What? N-no!"

"Then how the hell—"

"Enough!" the Master Chief barked, stopping the conversation from getting off track. He whirled to face a huddled figure trying to hide in the shadows of the room. Ian. "Ian, is it true?"

"I don't know," he sighed, his words almost coming as whine. When Johnson shot another accusing glare at the marine, who was none other than the Warthog's driver, Ian quickly spoke up. "I mean, I don't know what it is. It's…_ I_ don't even know how to explain it either!"

"Can you at least show us?"

Ian blinked rapidly several times, but his head fell into a weird nod. He raised two fists, an index finger projecting from each one and pointing at the other. The tips of his fingers were only millimeters apart. His face twisted in concentration.

After a moment of silence, a green vein of electricity pulsed between his two fingers. Everyone saw it even though it was quick; if you blinked you would've missed it. Johnson only blinked, dumbfounded.

"So… what? He's been having too much fun with the carpets?" he guessed.

Ian gave a quick nervous smile. "It's not exactly like that."

"Then what is it like?" Miranda questioned.

They were in a private section of the Frigate's bridge, doors sealed and dimly lit. The only people there had the highest clearance: Keyes, The Chief, Johnson, along with Ian and Private Jackson, who served as witness.

Ian blinked and looked down in thought. After a moment, his gaze fell upon a computer monitor on the edge of the room. He looked at the peering commanders.

"Does that computer have any perishable data?" he asked.

Miranda showed a confused look. "Huh?"

Suddenly Cortana materialized on the holographic table in the center of the room, her hands on his hips. She waved a hand at the screen Ian referred to.

"Now it does," she informed him.

Ian gave a nod of gratefulness. He had a moment of hesitation, like he wondered what exactly what he should do. He made up his mind, carefully walking over to the computer. His hand hovered over the dashboard. Suddenly there was a weird noise from the device, indicating something happened. The occupants immediately suspected it was the "electricity" again, but it was too fast for the naked eye.

When Ian stepped away, Cortana tilted her head and looked into the distance. After a moment, she murmured, "Interesting, the data is completely erased."

Now Johnson was massaging his temples again. "I'm confused. What does data have to do with zapping?"

Cortana darted her gaze to different parts of the room: Jackson, Ian, the computer, to staring blankly. The humans quickly realized she was putting the pieces of the puzzle quickly together, and were eager to see how she was doing it. But knowing it was impossible to keep up with her supercomputer mind, they patiently remained quiet. After what felt like eternity, the AI finally spoke aloud.

"Hmm… it seems like Ian doesn't control electricity; but _technology_."

Sergeant Johnson coughed. "Excuse me?"

"Well, anything electronic. A computer, a system, even a light-bulb. But that does like the case."

Miranda was more unfazed, but was obviously leaning towards the more confused side. Though her voice was filled with curiosity. "Cortana, how is that possible?"

Cortana turned to her, waving her hands. "Well, _how_, is one story altogether. Maybe there's no answer to that. But it makes sense based on Private Jackson's witness statements and what Ian has just shown us."

The Master Chief looked at Ian. "Did you know?"

Ian shrugged. "I always knew I was different. But I never understood how."

"How did you know you could erase the data?"

"I remember once when I got frustrated with my computer, the hard-drive suddenly wiped. I still think it was a malfunction."

The Master Chief nodded in understanding, but was smirking. He waited, expecting Cortana or Commander Keyes choosing the next course action. He wasn't expecting Private Jackson to speak up again.

"But I don't understand why the Covenant was after him," he confessed.

Immediately everyone's heads perked up and shot a wild look at the soldier as if he said something crazy. Even though, the Master Chief saw in the corner of his eye Ian wince. He paled and looked like his darkest secret was revealed. Maybe it _was_ just revealed.

"Excuse me?" Commander Keyes pressed Jackson.

The man swallowed nervously, seeing he was the center of attention again. "The Covenant ambushed us, but I noticed they were careful not to get too close to Ian. There was only one though. An Elite that was wearing gold armor—what is that, a captain?—anyway, he could speak perfectly and he was pretty interested in Ian. He even ordered his goons to grab him. That's what started the whole thing."

All eyes turned to Ian, who was making an effort at staring down at his feet. They watched him for a few moments until finally Johnson broke the silence.

"So… they want him because…"

He trailed off, where Cortana picked it up for him.

"They must have discovered his powers somehow. Once again probably another story. I guess it's not surprising. The Covenant runs on technology, more so than we do. They probably want him to make their equipment more efficient."

"They said something about 'Halo,'" Ian suddenly called out.

He was leaning on the monitor with his arms and legs crossed, still staring at his feet. He was almost unaware of what his words just did. Immediately everyone's hearts stopped as dozens of horrible memories flashed across their eyes. Their bodies went numb in shock; not expecting at all to hear that word ever again. The Master Chief was ghostly quiet. The silence hung in the air in a strong tension until it was finally broken by Commander Keyes.

"Cortana… can you explain Halo for me?" she asked.

"Halo is a super-weapon," the AI informed. "_Very_ super. When activated, it causes destruction on a galactic scale, ending all life."

"Is that what my father was after?"

The Master Chief lowered his head. Miranda Keyes's father, Jacob Keyes, was the captain of the ship Pillar of Autumn that discovered Halo. When stranded on the ring-world, he led a party to explore it, knowing it had a secret and was eager to discover it. He only ended up dead. The Master Chief was on the Pillar of Autumn, and still blamed himself that he couldn't protect the man.

Cortana paused for a moment, going through the same memories. Finally she simply said, "Yes."

Keyes blinked for several moments, absorbing everything. "I've heard of it," she announced. "But I thought Halo was destroyed."

"It was," Cortana confirmed.

"Then why would—" The commander paused mid-sentence and raised her eyebrows. She continued with answering her own question. "Unless there's another one."

Sergeant Johnson gave skeptical laugh. "Two Halos? Are you serious?" He then shot a gaze at Ian. "And how does zapping computers have to with Halo?"

"Halo is an advanced weapon," Cortana repeated. "Maybe Ian's 'gift' has something to do with it."

"They don't understand what Halo is," the boy suddenly spoke up. Everyone turned to him again as he straightened. Now it was his turn to feel self-conscious, but he swallowed his stage-fright and explained. "They don't understand Halo is a super-weapon. They, uh—" He squinted his eyes in thought as he tried to put the information in his own words. "Think it's some sort of religious relic. If it's activated, it will make all worthy races gods."

"That is the lamest religion I ever heard," Johnson muttered.

"But they know it's composed of technology. T-they think I can help control it and everything."

"Wait a minute," Keyes spoke up. "How do you know this?"

Ian paled again, realizing he accidently slipped another secret. He only swallowed and looked down again. The Master Chief narrowed his eyes and he found himself putting his pieces together.

They found Ian completely abandoned and alone. He was scared and in a horrible state. According to Private Jackson, the Covenant knew about him and was very interested in him. And now he knew them better than the world's most knowledgeable super-computer. The Spartan blinked. No… it couldn't be…

"Ian," he called, "do you have something to share?"

Suddenly the boy shivered before whimpering, "I know about the Covenant because I was with them for a while. T-they were able capture me. …After killing my parents."

The room froze.

"Those alien bastards did _what_?" Johnson roared.

"My father was a soldier, but my family lived on Earth and we were shielded from the war. But one night the Covenant came from nowhere. They were after me. They slaughtered my parents and took me away. They wanted my help with Halo. I escaped, though, where I somehow ended up in Mambasa."

"Where the Covenant came after you," Cortana added.

Ian nodded solemnly. "I never meant for this to happen. I-I'm sorry."

* * *

The Sangheili commander clad in white armor sat solemnly in his seat, observing the data before him. Hmm… Earth was an interesting place. Whatever, they were only here for one reason.

The commander was deep in thought, but was brought out when he heard a scuffle of boots from the doorway. He shifted his head to see the feet of a Sangheili messenger in the corner of his vision. Through the quietness of the room, the superior was able to sense the anxiety and tension coming from the soldier. Something was wrong.  
"What is it?" he asked.

The other Sangheili hesitated; obviously not pleased he had been given this job. But he swallowed his uncertainty and confessed, "It's about Shipmaster Anpo 'Irkulee."

Immediately the commander was interested. He was aware of the Shipmaster's mission. He listened as the messenger cautiously went on.

"He's dead," he reported.

The commander didn't reply, only staring into space as he processed what he had just been told. The Covenant has suffered a great loss… The High Prophets will not be pleased. For many reasons…

"How did he die?" the white Elite questioned.

Another hesitation. "I-it was the human youngling. But it wasn't of mortal means. It was… he used it…"

The commander immediately understood. Even more interesting. Not only did the boy kill once again, he killed a high-ranking Sangheili using his special gift. The Sangheili grinned.

"Contact the Hierarchs," he ordered. "Tell them what has happened. And tell them I'll be taking care of him from now on."

* * *

**The Elite commander is an OC, not Rtas 'Vadum/Shipmaster. But I plan for him to have a similar rank.**

**As for the name Anpo 'Irkulee, it is not my own. It was created by a Sangheili Name Generator, since there was no way I could make a cool sounding and accurate Sangheili name on my own.**


	6. Chapter 6

**And for those curious, I've decided to dedicate a chapter to Ian's backstory. I'm mostly doing this to keep ends tied and it does assist in the plot. Reason I'm telling this I recommend you to read because it ****_is_**** a part of the plot, but if you happen to highly dislike these sort of things, then you may skip this chapter.**

* * *

Ian was not from a poor family; nor was he born exactly rich. He was born in fair home hidden within the woods on the outskirts of a small city. His family were not farmers; nor were they citied-tied. They simply had privacy in an upper-average home; which was rare to come by these days.

Ian's father was solider—a corporal within the UNSC army—to be precise. Not much money, technically, but it was made up for it with Ian's mother being a surgeon. She worked at a local hospital, and despite having an important job, she was able to stay most of the time for her son. Even though, his parents couldn't always be there for him. But Ian was alright with that. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

He was smart and mature, being praised being years above his age. And his father couldn't help but train him a few basics, such as shooting a common firearm and a couple hand-to-hand moves. He was independent and required little, mostly spending time with close friends or surprisingly locked in his room working on a puzzle or playing with a device. He even was trusted to look over his little sister, Sarah, when their parents were away.

She was considered only a toddler, though coming on six. She wasn't as independent as her family, as she followed Ian everywhere, but he didn't mind. He laughed every time she attempted to say his name, which usually came out as the word "eon."

He was adventurous, too, especially with his friends. He would be the one creating the "perfect plan" or sending them off on a mini-journey. They caused playful trouble, sometimes, but were never caught. Never caught with enough evidence from the neighbors.

But despite his lifestyle, his life was meek compared to the Human-Covenant War outside their windows. His father upon return mentioned very little military tactics and war stories. His mother prevented him from getting too close to gruesome anatomy. His friends did risky pranks, but never got in life-threatening situations. His life was shielded. He lived a "perfect" life. He never understood the full extensions of war. That was his "only weakness."

He was close with his family and had high morals. When the family was together, nothing bad ever happened. That's what it felt like. That's what they believed. But it can be proven that "belief" is not strong enough.

Ian remembered that night. He prays every night that he could forget it, yet he recalls it as if it happened a moment ago.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, YOU BASTARDS!" Ian's father roared at the top of his lungs, battling with the tearing front door.

He was leaning his broad shoulder on it, hands tightly bound on his pistol. His wife was a few feet away, carrying her own private weapon, another small pistol. Ian was cradling Sarah on the other side of the house, wrapping his body around her as she whimpered in his chest. Dad had already tried to contact help, either the military or even the police. But it failed. Ian couldn't help but suspect it was intentional; that the Covenant was preventing help.

He still couldn't understand it. Covenant on Earth? The alien invaders he heard so much about, but was constantly reassured the threat was being handled? How? How could this happen? _Why_ was this happening?

He jolted when suddenly a loud breaking noise came from the source of the yelling. The door had been destroyed. The awful sound was accompanied by a gurgling yell and immediately followed by Mom's pistol. More shooting joined: Ian's parents' weapons and a more unfamiliar sound that could only be plasma. Loud grunts and roars could be heard from the fighters and crashing from their surroundings. Sarah whimpered louder and covered her ears, digging her face deeper into Ian.

"Sh, sh," he assured hastily. "It's okay. Just some noise. Everything's going to be alright."

Sarah barely heard him while he realized he didn't believe what he just said. He gulped at a thought. Oh, he's gonna do it now.

With one final strict and reassuring order, Ian ushered Sarah to the closest and kept her in place. Then with making as little noise as possible, he opened the room's door and crawled into the hallway. The sounds of struggle were louder.

Ian crawled on his hands and knees most of the way, and slid like a cat into the kitchen. The kitchen was next to the foyer. Thankfully it was separated by walls and the fight hadn't spread to this room yet. This allowed to Ian to slip a large cutting knife from the counter. Now in a crouch, he snuck around to the open entrance to the foyer.

The entry way was filled with several Covenant soldiers—"Elites," Ian believed. His parents were a little bruised, as to be expected, but they were holding their own. But they couldn't hold out forever. They needed help.

Ian found his chance when suddenly an Elite stumbled back towards him. He knew he couldn't hesitate. Clutching to the handle, he drove the steel blade towards its target, aiming for the black gap of armor.

But the tip of the knife barely touched the Elite, maybe not at all, when suddenly pressure shot up Ian's arm. A large, reptilian hand was wrapped around his forearm. The event was so sudden that Ian lost his hold on his weapon, sending it clattering to the floor. Next thing Ian knew his arm was being brought over his head, where it was out of the way.

"Rebellious little thing, are you?" a deep, ominous voice chuckled.

Ian peered up to see an over eight foot tall Elite dressed in gold armor that seemed to gleam in the darkness. Its brown eyes were in a strange shade. Ian instinctively tried to worm from its grip, but the alien simply raised its arm, leaving Ian's legs dangling just above the ground.

"IAN!" his parents cried, seeing what had happened and in distraught.

Ian tried to speak to them, but his words caught in his throat when a sizzling presence appeared next to his neck. An Energy Sword.

"Move, and I kill this youngling," Ian's captor threatened.

Ian's parents naturally paled and stiffened. Then suddenly a slightly calmness came over Ian's father.

"No, you won't," Dad murmured. "I know some of your culture. I know Elites don't kill unarmed opponents. And you wouldn't kill a child."

The gold Elite narrowed his eyes. "Hmm… true. But you are full-grown, yes? And are you not armed?"

Ian's parent's eyes widened for a moment before glancing at the weapons they clutched so desperately. Before anything else could happen, Ian's captor made a weird growl. Almost immediately, all the Elites charged at the human adults and surrounded them like a swarm. Ian's world went mute for a few moments as his senses dulled.

They returned when the Elites stepped back, revealing two corpses on the floor. A pool of blood was forming on Dad's chest while Mom's broken neck was at a weird angle. Both their eyes were open, but they were empty and glazed.

All of Ian's breath was gone. He stared with his eyes widened at an unnatural length. The world went still as his body severely numbed. No…

The boy let out a blood-curdling scream. He flailed desperately and sent useless strikes at his captor. The Elite commander only chuckled at his attempts.

"SARAH!" Ian suddenly screamed. "Sarah! Run! They'll kill you! Run!"

The commander translated what the boy was yelling about by giving orders to his troops.

"There's another human here; dispose of it. Destroy the building. Make sure there is no trace of us."

And just like that, the Elite carried Ian out, still holding him in the same position. Ian struggled even more, but it had no effect. The last thing he saw was the black corridors of his childhood home sliding away.

**_"NO!"_**

* * *

The cold dagger dug into the little Grunt's throat, provoking a gurgling scream from the dying midget. Ian yanked the blade back out, draining that last drop of life from the creature. He leaped away, trying to get as far from his work as possible. His hearing was deafened by blaring alarms. His chilled as it wasn't a human sound, as it had a ghostly note.

_WHOO WHOO WHOO_

Ian sprinted down the lonely corridors, his limbs numb but not daring to slow. Suddenly the gruff voice of a Brute sounded over the alarm.

"The prisoner is loose! Find the human! DO NOT LET HIM ESCAPE!"

Ian sprinted even faster.

_WHOO WHOO WHOO_

Ian slid to a halt, crouching in the shadows of a strange Covenant vehicle. Sweat covering his body and panting heavily, he looked over its rim to see a small hanger. A few guards were jogging into high-tech doors leading to other parts of ship. There were a few other soldiers still remaining in the hanger, namely Jackals, mostly uninterested in the commotion.

But it didn't take long for one to lift its head in the air, jaws open slightly and nostrils twitching. It suddenly twisted around letting out warning growls. But it was too late. Ian was darting at full speed towards his target: a Banshee.

He dived for the cockpit, but the Jackals were already lunging towards him. The boy yelped as the first attacker's claws slashed his leg. Adrenalin pumping through his veins, he whirled around, dagger in hand. His victim screamed as the blade buried itself in its eye. Another one tried to approach, but Ian only gave this one a savage punch to the skull, sending it to the floor. The rest of the pack backed off a little, allowing Ian enough time to scramble into the cockpit. The controls came naturally to him, where it didn't long to leave.

He would find himself back on Earth. He would fly endlessly for hours, desperately avoiding any trace of the Covenant. Finally he crash-landed in Old Mombasa, only to wander endlessly through the streets. Soon he would lose the last of his energy and collapse, now a helpless child.


	7. Chapter 7

Ian woke up with a jolt. He panted heavily under the stuffy covers as his skin was soaked with sweat. He pushed himself up to sitting position and pulled the sheets away to allow his legs to breathe. Instead of staying in place, they slowly bent to allow Ian wrap his arms around them in loneliness. It was that dream again. That dream of his past. He hated it. He wished every day that he could forget those awful memories.

Ian stayed there in the dark for a few minutes, caught up in his own depression. He had been given his own room, having a private bed and a bathroom. Rare to come by on a ship like this. Suddenly a stinging pain from Ian's arm drew him out of his thoughts and he hissed. He looked at the source to find his bandaged arm. The Shipmaster had shot him with a plasma rifle, leaving a deep wound. After returning to the Frigate, he had received medical attention for it. Speaking of which, he remembered the doctor had instructed him to her see in the morning. Well, according to the only clock in the room, it was morning. Or at least he hoped it morning. Every clock he found in the UNSC was military time, and he _sucked _at reading it.

Nevertheless, Ian stretched his limbs with a loud yawn, once again pushing his trauma behind him. He changed in a pair of clothes given to him: khaki military pants and a gray shirt with **NAVY **etched onto it. Apparently it was the only thing they had in his size.

He didn't take a shower, since he already taken one before plus he didn't trust it with his wound. He didn't trust the effects plasma had on human flesh.

He stepped into the hallway to make his way to the medical ward. He had good memory, but as he tried to retrace his steps, he had himself getting confused. Every hallway looked the same and there was absolute no sense of direction. Oh, why did they have to make these things so confusing? It wouldn't have killed them just to make it a bit simpler or at least make a map?

Ian wondered about asking directions, but it was hard to find people. But when he did find someone, he lost his nerve. He saw the look of minor disdain in their eyes. He knew it wasn't that they specifically hated him; it was because they didn't trust him. They thought he didn't belong because he was a kid (which was true) and they feared him after hearing the rumors. Ian knew this. He could tell it all from the look from their eyes.

He wandered aimlessly as he desperately tried to get familiar with his surroundings. Whenever he did think he was on track, it wouldn't be long before he discovered he was wrong. Though he avoided any hallways where he felt like he was being watched.

Finally he got his bearings where he found his place in the medical ward. Double automatic doors opened for him to reveal an average size laboratory filled with random supplies. A lone woman was hunching over a counter, obviously messing with some tools.

Her bright blonde hair was pulled in a tight ponytail, two locks of hair loose from the bundle. She wore a pristine white lab coat with the sleeves slightly rolled up so they wouldn't get in the way.

"Dr. Dubose?" Ian called, since the woman had her back turned with no signs of hearing his entrance.

Immediately the woman turned around. She had light green pretty eyes and a cute smile. Her tanned skin was smooth and flawless. Ian considered her attractive, even though that was as far as that field went.

"Oh, Ian!" she greeted. "I didn't know you were there. Did you get here okay? You're a little later than I expected."

"Um, I just slept in a little, that's all."

Dr. Dubose cocked an eyebrow, but Ian only gave an innocent smile. He didn't want to confess that he gotten lost and risk the conversation mentioning of his cold welcome. Dr. Dubose was one of the few who didn't see him as a nuisance; that was kind to him and maybe actually caring. The second Ian was brought to the doctor the women didn't hesitate to fuss over him in concern. She was gentle with him though, and seemed to understand completely of his living hell. Ian liked that about her.

He obediently followed her orders: removing his shirt and allowing her to address his wound. She informed it was actually healing well, but she still gave him a small dosage of biofoam. The young boy couldn't help but seethe at the shot of pain. She made a couple more adjustments and addressed a couple other minor scrapes Ian had suffered from his adventures. As she wrapped his right arm in cloth once again, Dr. Dubose questioned, "Now are you sure this is all? They didn't do _anything _to you? You know you can tell me."

"I'm fine, really," Ian insisted, understanding who "they" were.

The Covenant barely did anything to him; they wanted him well and alive for his "control over Halo"—as they said. Though they were very intimidating to him and cold, not hiding the fact they despised him. They were careful not to damage him, but made up for it with mentally torturing him—mocking his race and his mistakes. The commander who was in charge of Ian's handling was the worst.

Ian listened to Dr. Dubose's orders as she told him her instructions. "Take it easy," she ordered. "Your body needs rest and a chance to recover from the shock of what you been through. If you need anything else or experience any kind of discomfort, come find me."

"Yes, ma'am," Ian nodded.

And with that, he left.

* * *

"Come in," Miranda Keyes allowed.

The once automatic locked doors opened, revealing the Master Chief, looking solemn even in his armor. Miranda perked her head up at his entrance, not remembering requesting him. Because she didn't. She was in her limited "office" on the ship, which was simply a holographic table with a few chairs. A mini-command-center, if you will. She was looking over some data when she had her surprise visit.

"Chief," she greeted, even though there was surprise. "What is it?"

"It's about Ian," the giant replied, his smooth and deep voice not faltering.

Miranda narrowed her eyes. "I was expecting this." She took a seat on the opposite side of the table from the Spartan, knowing it was going to be a long one.

"So what's on your mind?" she began.

The Master Chief paused for a moment as he rehearsed how to start it. "Ian's different. And in some cases he can be dangerous. Just look what happened with the Covenant. Look how they found him first."

He lingered, but Miranda sensed what was next. "But…?"

"But, he's just a kid. What are we going to do? Lock him up for something he has no control over? Or worse…" He paused again, where he confessed what he knew before finishing. "I know you haven't reported Ian further than your command. But if they find out, what will you think will happen to Ian? They'll lock him up not as a prisoner, but as an animal. He'll be an experiment for the rest of his life."

"You don't think I know that?" Miranda countered. "There's a reason only a few of us know Ian's power. The rest of my forces are the only people who know he even exists, and they only see an innocent orphan."

"That's not the point. Sooner or later they'll find Ian, and we'll have no choice but to hand him over."

"Then what do you want to do? Execute him?"

"I _don't_ know what to do!"

There was silence.

The adults looked away into their own worlds, caught in their thoughts. But they were blinking in surprise. It was rare—no, unheard of—of a Spartan losing their cool and being so uncertain. It wasn't welcoming to Miranda.

"But I do know one thing," the Chief spoke up, his voice stronger this time. "No, I don't want to execute Ian. Nor do I want him captured by the Covenant or detained by the government. We have to protect him from both. We have to figure out something to make sure he's safe."

"How do we do that, Chief?" his commander questioned. "You heard how easily he lost control. And I made Private Jackson and Private Rawlins swear to privacy, but they can't keep their mouths shut forever. What if the rest of the crew hears of this? What do you think what will happen then?"

The Master Chief narrowed his eyes and Keyes gave an exasperated sigh. They both knew this could go on forever.

After a moment of silence, Miranda muttered, "I see what you're trying to say. I'll try to keep this on the down-low, but I'm leaving you to handle with Ian. Find a place where he can find asylum. I suggest you hurry."

The Master Chief tilted his head in gratefulness. "Thank you."

Understanding the young commander was busy and needed time to think, the Spartan respected her privacy and walked away.

* * *

**And for anyone who was wondering who "they" were during Miranda/the Chief's conversation, I was picturing the superiors of UNSC or the "government."**

**I'm mostly going to address Commander Keyes "Miranda" during scenes with her. Even though it's slightly more realistic for her to be referred by her surname, I like calling her by her first name better.**


	8. Chapter 8

Private Rawlins **(so I won't bore you with yet another name) **was making his rounds around the _In Armor Clad_. His mind whirled with a vivid memory that seemed to happen a matter of moments ago. Ian going crazy and green lightning shooting out of him. Rawlins's had seen a lot of things, but that was a first.

Despite that was all he thought about, he was told by both Commander Keyes and Private Jackson not to say _anything_. And it was a direct order. That was enough for him. Never in his entire life did he disobey a command, and he wasn't the double-crossing type. What was he going to say, anyway?

Though he couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen to Ian. Rawlins knew for a fact that the superiors of the ship knew about him, but the soldier wondered what they were deciding. With the boy having superpowers and being chased by the Covenant, and all. Well, whatever, it wasn't Rawlins problem.

He wandered into a hanger. It was large enough for a couple Pelicans, but it was empty save a couple lonely vehicles and piles of abandoned supplies. It was dark with deep shadows, only a couple small lights on. Rawlins was casually walking by a wall of crates when it happened.

Without warning, a powerful pressure gripped his shoulder and the marine felt something pierce his torso. A wave of excruciating pain rippled across his body before he felt nothing.

He was pushed to the floor, dead.

In his place was a large Elite dressed in cobalt armor. The alien instinctively looked around, on alert for any more patrols. Nothing. So far so good.

The Elite looked over his shoulder to see his comrades crawling out of the shadows, deactivating their camouflage armor. They looked solemn and growled, impatient to get this over with. So in return their mission's head ordered them with a couple growls in their native tongue. Immediately the group stepped forward, disappearing in thin air as their high-tech armor re-activated.

* * *

The Master Chief was wandering around the ship, bored and lost in his thoughts. It was only a matter of hours ago Ian was the last thing on his mind, now it was all he thought about. Why was he sticking his neck out for this kid? Because he was just a kid, that's why. The super-soldier sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this.

It had been two days since he found Ian. The day he was rescued he was brought onto the _In Armor Clad_, where the boy spent the night and following day. The day had grown into night, where the Chief was now. It was late, giving many of the soldiers an excuse to retire to the barracks. The Chief recalled Ian had gone to bed, too.

The Spartan understood their boredom. The past days they had done nothing but been clearing Mombasa of the Covenant. The first day was full of excitement, since that was when the city was crawling with Covenant and the incident with Ian. But on the second day, there were barely any Covenant forces to handle while the soldiers started to get uninterested in their guest. The former made the Master Chief uneasy.

The Covenant were not the type to give up easily. Yet they became so quiet when things were just heating up. The war veteran didn't like that at all. They were up to something. They were either coming up with a plot to annihilate their enemies or they were regrouping for a powerful counterattack. The Chief didn't like either option. He just hoped things came together.

Thinking about such uneasy thoughts made the Spartan notice something. It was quiet. _Too _quiet. The ship was too still just because everyone was asleep. The Master Chief didn't like that even more than his previous thoughts. Something was wrong.

He continued on, more alert than ever.

* * *

Ian was asleep in his room after another long day, even though he went to bed early. Dying of boredom and feeling unwanted, the young boy retreated to his quarters and stayed there. He eventually fell asleep, but by this time the dreams were slowly crawling into his slumber. He went back and forth between being perfectly sound to muttering and twitching.

For the rest of his room, everything was perfectly still. Not a single light was on, having the room shrouded in ominous darkness. This was ended when suddenly the automatic door opened, having the hallway's light pour in.

Ian, who was once sound, reacted to the change of environment. He slowly opened his eyes. At first he saw nothing through his blurry vision, but it cleared when suddenly he swore he saw movement. He blinked, where he saw the space shifting in front of him. What?

Then it came to him.

He tried to bolt upright, but never got the chance. At the same moment, the Elite deactivated its camouflage and charged, snatching Ian's mouth and sealing it close. The young boy froze under the alien's grip, obviously terrified. The beginnings of a growl emanated from the Elite's throat, where it leaned towards its prisoner, their faces only an inch apart.

Ian understood the threat.

Resist, and die.

A loud yawn escaped Sergeant Johnson. Man was he tired. He had spent all day leading multiple squadrons in circles around the city. And leading a bunch of dumbasses who didn't even know how to put their shoes on right was exhausting. Well, at least he finally could—

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted as he bumped into something. He bounced back with a grunt, blinking in confusion. What the?

Suddenly the soldier saw the air before him shift. It was matter of seconds before he realized it wasn't air at all. Without warning, an Elite materialized right in front of him. The dark-skinned man yelped and leaped back.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled.

The Elite charged, eager to silence the human. Johnson was pushed back, where the much smaller creature was forced onto the floor. Johnson tried to leap back up, but was forced into place when suddenly a massive boot planted itself on his chest. The Elite stood over him, growling. It removed its carbine weapon from its back and aimed it at its prisoner. But Johnson was far from submitting.

In a blink of an eye, the soldier slipped out a pocket knife and drove it into the alien's leg. The monster roared in pain and stumbled away, not wanting to be struck again. This gave the sergeant time to scramble to his feet and pull out his magnum. The Elite turned to attack, but was only greeted with a volley of bullets, all aimed at his face. The giant stumbled backwards and fell into a heap, death quickly consuming it.

Not bothering to check his work, Johnson whirled around and raced down the corridor. He slid to a halt next to a box connected to the wall. It looked like some sort of strange telephone: with several buttons on the panel and of course the telephone itself. But it was not for ordinary conversation.

Johnson jabbed a couple buttons and brought the phone to his ear. When it was clear, he roared into it, his words echoing throughout the entire ship.

"Security breach! The Covenant has infiltrated the ship! All forces respond! Wake up, everyone! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"

* * *

The Master Chief shot his head up at Johnson's warning. A few seconds later, alarms began to blare and emergency lights began to flash. They were to aid in getting everyone's attention, probably activated by Johnson himself. But everyone who needed to know was already on it.

Armed with an assault rifle, the Master Chief charged. He meddled with his helmet to patch him to a certain channel on his communicator.

"Cortana, where are they?" he asked.

"Heading towards Hanger B12," the AI replied. "Chief, they have Ian."

"Can you slow them down?"

"With pleasure."

As Master Chief switched course to his new destination, Cortana continued to her task. On another part of the ship, she materialized before a small group of anxious Elites. "Hello, boys."

The Chief ran full speed down the corridors, which was pretty fast. Thankfully no one was unfortunate to step in front of him. Even though, it seemed forever for the Spartan to reach his destination.

His only delay was when two Elites appeared and tried to stall him, but quickly failed. Still running, the Master Chief pulled his weapon up and fired at one of the aliens all the way until they collided. The human sucker-punched the Elite he had fired, sending it to ground permanently. He disabled the other by grabbing its head and flipping it over his back, breaking the monster's neck in the process.

Finally he reached the hanger. A lone Phantom took up most of the space, floating silently. The Chief noticed a couple differences, leading him to the conclusion it was modified for stealth. Probably why it wasn't detected. But he could care less about the alien drop-ship.

His eyes immediately fell on the side of the hanger. Coming from the doorway were two Elites, Ian squeezed between them. The young boy immediately noticed the Spartan.

"Chief! Help!" he cried desperately.

He tried to tear away, but his captors kept him in place. The Chief charged, planning to dispatch the aliens as easily as the last pair. One of the Elites closest to the Spartan pulled out a plasma rifle. One hand holding Ian and the other holding the weapon, the intruder fired at their attacker.

The Master Chief dived away from the plasma, only to come head-to-head with the Phantom itself. Suddenly the ship's gun came to life, the attachment slowly turning towards him. Nowhere to hide, the Spartan was forced to suffer the full force of the attack as he was swallowed in plasma. His powerful shields were quickly depleted, where the giant tore away and lunged behind a support pillar.

He leaned his back against it as the Phantom continued to fire. Red fire spilled around the structure, desperately trying to snatch their target but couldn't. A slap of thunder accompanied each thrust. The Chief was panting heavily and his few wounds already sore. His energy shields were trying to recharge but his armor was too damaged. The Master Chief was pinned.

"No! Let me go!" he heard Ian growl.

The boy was desperately trying to pull away, but each Elite had a good grip on each arm. The scene almost looked exactly like a toddler throwing a tantrum when his mother was forcing him to go shopping. But this was far worse.

"I won't go back!" Ian yelled, but his plea fell on deaf ears.

An Elite from within the Phantom appeared at the ship's entrance. It roared something to its comrades. It was then Ian's captors shifted and scooped up their prisoner. They now held Ian like a heavy sack between them, cradling him in their arms. But Ian was still struggling madly, screaming and cursing, wiggling in their strong grip. It was useless as they slipped into the Phantom, the steel door closing behind them and locking in place. Immediately the Phantom began to crawl, slowly edging towards the open space of the hanger entrance (now exit) and to the outside.

"Cortana, close the door!" The Chief ordered.

"I can't!" she replied. "They're not letting me through!"

The Spartan growled, understanding the AI couldn't do anymore. He stepped out of his hiding place and opened fire on the Phantom, mostly focusing on the gunner. The alien ship started to back out a little faster, but it still pathetically slow due to the lack of room. The Chief could only pray that would be enough. Finally there was a chorus of yells and a team of marines appeared on the upper level of the hanger, weapons aimed at the enemy craft.

_About time, _the Chief thought bitterly.

They began to fire at the ship, filling the air with bullets and flashing along with sounds of a violent hailstorm. The Phantom's only gun went back and forth between the Chief and the marines, unable to fire at them both. Finally the weapon was too torn and malfunctioned into oblivion. But it was too late.

Right before the Master Chief's very eyes, the Phantom slipped into the night and disappeared into the darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Once again the Master Chief stood before Commander Keyes, but much more solemn than before.

"How could this happen?" Miranda demanded.

"The Covenant made fools of us, that's how," Johnson growled. "They thought of everything and were one step in front of us."

"But how? We should've been alerted of their presence."

Suddenly Cortana popped up from a holographic table. "They planted a virus before the attack, sabotaging our radar and control systems. Don't worry, though, I destroyed it the moment I found it."

"How did they get a virus past you?" the Chief questioned.

Cortana shrugged. "Who knows."

The Chief looked away and narrowed his eyes. The Covenant did have their hands on Ian before. Maybe they _did_ learn a few things from him. Miranda's sigh brought him out of his thoughts.

"I suppose none of this matters now," she announced sullenly. "We have to find and retrieve Ian as soon as possible."

Instinctively all eyes fell on the Master Chief.

"I guess that's my cue," the giant shrugged.

"You're our last hope, Chief," his commander informed. "And apparently so is Ian."

* * *

"I really hate you guys," Ian commented for the thousandth time.

The guard walking in front of him growled. Ian's head still throbbed after being hit on the Phantom, where he was forced to be obedient. So he went ahead with mocking his captors as much as possible. Somehow being with the UNSC reminded him of how he wanted to be, returning some of his old fire.

They were on a Cruiser now. Ian couldn't tell if it was the same one as before or not, everything looked the same. But he had a feeling that this was not an ordinary ship. Two Elites escorted him: one in front and one bringing up the rear. Dwarfing the boy and loaded with half a dozen deadly weapons, they were appropriate guards.

Finally they came to a door at the end of a long hallway. Ian peered around the first Elite to see the center of the door rotate. Its glowing blue locks moved out of place before finally splitting in three and opening. The room it led to was blocked off as the Elite moved forward as the prisoner felt a large hand nudge against his back. He stumbled forward and fell into an uncomfortable pace with his escort.

Ian gapped as he realized the room was actually a command center. A very impressive command center. Panels, monitors, holograms, computers, and technicians were crammed into the available space, each on a different task. Ian didn't understand how so much could happen so much in one room and be so organized. His escorts led him to the center of the room.

"Virl 'Sadumee, we brought the human," one of the guards muttered.

Ian, who had been determinedly focusing on the monitors, finally turned to who they were referring to. He squeaked. An Elite was standing in the center of the frenzy and seemed to be directing it. It was clad in snow-white armor and had deep black eyes. And it was a freaking giant.

The creature easily stood over eight feet tall. He didn't know an exact height to compare it to, but he knew it succeeded the Shipmaster's height (who was tall) and even the Master Chief. Jeez.

The great beast slowly turned around and faced them. His eyes fell upon Ian, where the boy stiffened.

"Ian, yes?" the Elite guessed.

"Y-yes, sir," Ian stammered, instinctively going back to his "lessons" during his last visit.

"I am Virl 'Sadumee, Supreme Commander of the Covenant Navy."

"Erm, nice to meet you?"

One of the boy's guards growled at the lack of respect. Ian flinched slightly, feeling a little helpless. Hey, he hadn't met any Supreme Commanders. He didn't know what a supreme commander was. 'Sadumee didn't seem very affected.

"It is alright to state you are uncomfortable," he offered.

"Okay… I'm uncomfortable."

The large Elite chuckled. "I suppose it is understandable. I heard rumors Anpo 'Irkulee was a little harsh on you."

Ian didn't say anything for a moment before accidently slipping out due to lost in thoughts, "He killed my parents."

'Sadumee nodded in understanding. "Not surprising. 'Parents' are not much value on our homeworld. He must have not understood the consequences of his actions."

Ian knew the second part was a lie. Or at least part-lie. He wanted to remain silent, but feeling gazes boring into him and conscious of the silence, he randomly tried to pronounce the Elite's name.

"V-v-er-l, 'Sa—can I just call you Glacier?"

The Elite's voice was deep, slow. He chose his words and movements carefully. There was an icy cool aura surrounding him and his actions were like a slow-moving river of frozen water. Plus the white armor.

Virl 'Sadumee narrowed his eyes for a moment, but ending up shrugging. "Very well."

Ian looked straight at his feet as he felt the Commander's cold gaze on him. It wasn't a menacing glare; more like observation.

"Find appropriate quarters for our guest," Glacier suddenly ordered. Ian blinked. Wha? "And makes sure he is settled."

"Yes, sir," an escort immediately hummed.

Glacier gave one more glance at the party. "You may go."

And with that, Ian was escorted away and led to another part of the ship. 'Sadumee watched them go, thinking. He waved a guard over.

"Yes?" the Elite asked.

"Make sure the boy is entertained," the Commander surprisingly ordered. "Give him electronics to meddle with, but make sure he can't use them against us. Let's see how talented he really is."

His ally understood where he was going. "Yes, sir. And may I ask: what do we exactly plan to do with him?"

Virl 'Sadumee tilted his head. "I'll speak to the Hierarchs soon. It won't be long before the humans become uneasy. I want him relocated before then."

* * *

Ian was led through the maze-like corridors of the Cruiser. He quickly caught on he was in fact on a new ship, and this one was special. This one was the head of an entire fleet, so it was larger with a slightly different design. Ian sensed there were actually more forces on this ship too, but he didn't see many because his escorts were careful not to expose him.

He was taken to a lone door where it opened to reveal a room similar to the one he was given on the _In Armor Clad. _So they actually gave him a human room. How nice. Ian grunted as he was shoved through the door. He looked over his shoulder to see the automatic barrier close, blocking his guards from view. Good riddance.

After moment of stillness, Ian slowly made his way to his bed. He was offered one with the Shipmaster, but only for "good behavior." Ian wasn't tortured under the Shipmaster, only treated as an unwanted pet. But that treatment isn't favorable.

Ian slid under the sheets, which were made of a material similar to satin. He lay down and pressed his head against his pillow. He was tired, bored, and desired escape. But he thought about his new handler before sleep consumed him.

He wasn't cold and calculating, just cool, ice-like. He seemed slightly more respectful and fair than the Shipmaster, having Ian have more tolerance for him. But as Ian's eyes closed and unconsciousness started to capture him, he had to remind himself where he was.

* * *

**Yes, I actually made an original name for my OC. And then I replaced it with a nickname. XD**

**For those who don't know, the Supreme Commander is supposed to be a high admiral or commander in the Covenant. They wear alternate armor, so I decided to give my Commander my own color. White just looks cool. Plus I knew it would be valid because the previous Supreme Commander was promoted, so there was a spot open. ;)**

**And from now on I'm going to give Ian more of a personality. I know for some it may seem weird of the sudden change, but hey, if your family was slaughtered and you were enslaved, you would be pretty scared to.**


	10. Chapter 10

Ian stared blankly at the monitor before him. Really? The Covenant is making him play video games? Whatever, it's better than staring at the wall.

After an uneasy night's sleep, his escorts awoke him. They shoved him through several corridors only to push him in front of one of their computers. They ordered him to practice with it, so Ian did.

He actually caught on what they wanted from him. _Oh, they want to make sure I'm that I'm not some fraud._

He surprisingly continued with effort. It was just a regular computer, just Covenant-based. Like Earth computers, it was filled with different programs for different uses. Ian tried them one by one; some were interesting, some were boring. He noticed they attempted to cut off the computer from the rest of the ship. It failed, though, as the boy noticed how to hack into the systems. But thinking better of it, he let it go and continued with the activities he was assigned.

After hours of using an alien computer that Ian dominated at controlling, his exercise was interrupted. A cobalt Elite stepped through the door to their private room. He and Ian's escorts exchanged a brief conversation in their native language. Ian perked his head up in interest at the change of setting.

"What's up?" he asked.

To his amazement, an escort answered. The Elite stepped towards him with a growl.

"We're leaving," the alien announced.

"Where we going?"

The Elite didn't replay as he grabbed the human's shoulder and dragged him out of his chair.

They exited the room, the newcomer breaking away and Ian heading towards a different direction. He realized it was a messenger. Ian's escorts led him through the ship's confusing network of hallways. He obediently followed, letting go of trying to memorize routes and hallways long ago.

But as they headed deeper into the ship, Ian noticed his surroundings began to change. Identical hallways evolved to more variety: fluctuating between narrow and wide, opening to decorated rooms, walls made of different metal and hues. There were even some actual plants put up. Even deeper in, alien hieroglyphics began to decorate the walls, glowing orange against the blue-violet metal. Armor began to change to. Violet colors became more often and the shapes became more ceremonial. Elites wearing armor with glowing orange plates and wielding deadly staffs became more often, too. Speaking of which, Ian forgot when the last time he saw another species of the Covenant.

At the end of their journey, they halted in front of a large door. It was guarded by four Elites dressed in red and orange armor, all of them appearing like statues. But when they realized Ian's party was given permission to be here, they obediently stepped aside and the door automatically opened. But instead of disappearing into the walls like most doors, the broad structures moved inward and to the side like most normal doors on Earth.

Ian peered through to see a wide open room, completely empty save for the figure waiting on the opposite side. Before Ian could get a good look, his escorts ushered him forward. Ian obliged, where he walked through the opening and down the center of the room. He blinked at the figure waiting for them.

It was skinny, brown-skinned creature. It had a skinny neck but a round strangely-shaped head and beady eyes. It was dressed royal red ropes and tucked inside a floating high-tech throne. Its eyes were narrowed as it observed its guests.

As they neared, Ian couldn't help but mutter, "I didn't know E.T. was with the Covenant."

Ian's party stopped several meters from the strange alien. In the corner of his eye, the boy noticed Glacier slipping from the shadows, arms folded.

"Welcome, young messiah," the strange alien greeted, raising his voice so it echoed throughout the room.

Ian blinked at what he was called. Eh?

The alien put a hand on his chest. "I am the Prophet of Regret. As a Hierarch of the Covenant, I assist leading the High Council and our forces to the Great Journey."

Ian didn't say anything. The alien introduced himself, but Ian wasn't comfortable with giving personal information.

The Prophet of Regret had an aura of arrogance and authority around him. He cared only for himself and if anyone got in his way, he would kill them. He seemed young, but Ian wasn't sure.

"You have special powers to will help accomplish our mission very well," Regret went on. "And you will do so. The _Demon _tried to destroy you, but you were strong. That was a sign. Now you have returned to us, and you will aid to the completion of the Great Journey."

Ian was careful not to look at the alien. "And if I don't agree?"

He swore he heard Glacier chuckle with a snort.

"It is not your choice," Regret argued, completely unfazed. "It is you destiny; your purpose."

Once again the human said nothing. He stared away and showed no emotion. He was trying not to have his strengthening emotions cripple again. He was not expecting to be introduced to Prophet Lunatic. Regret slowly raised his arms and had his fingers interlock, observing Ian.

"Show us your power, boy," he ordered.

Ian cringed and sweated a little. "Uh, i-it's not something I can just turn and off. I don't even understand how I do it."

"Show us."

Ian gulped. He understood if he refused again, he would pay. This Prophet was determined. If he wanted something, he got it.

Ian sighed and closed his eyes. There was a large pillar-like machine on either side of the room. Several broad lights glowed at different spots on them. Ian wasn't really sure of their purpose—maybe they didn't even have one—but they were technology.

His escorts moved away and the boy slowly raised his arms, an open palm facing each machine. He concentrated, waiting on that strange feeling and for it to take over. Finally after a few minutes, Ian felt his subconscious stirring. He then felt invisible cords within his mind reach out to his surroundings, searching for something to attach to. It wasn't long before they found the machines.

Immediately Ian's mind was erased of all train of thought. His body's systems suddenly accelerated and his skin tingled. Green electricity spouted from his fingers and eagerly raced for the machines. Like hungry snakes, they snapped at pillars and dug into them. The air filled with crackling sounds and the grinding of malfunctioning systems.

In a matter of moments, there was a brilliant flash of light and Ian's power was cut off. The lightning disappeared and the once running machines were now dead and smoking. A wave of numbness and dizziness capturing Ian, the young boy fell to his knees with a groan. However Regret was laughing hysterically.

"Yes! This is the power! This is the power!" he cried. "This is the power for our Great Journey!" Leaning on his armrests, the Prophet looked at Glacier. "Plot a course for the Sacred Ring. We leave immediately!"


	11. Chapter 11

"Where is Ian?" the Master Chief demanded from his captive.

The Elite only roared in denial. It swiped its hand, smacking the side of the Spartan's head. The soldier winced, allowing the alien an attempt to get up. But it was only halfway straightened when suddenly the Master Chief aimed his magnum at it and fired. The beast fell back down onto the pile of rubble, dead.

"Another one bites the dust," the Master Chief muttered.

"Literally," Cortana added in attempt to add comedic relief.

It didn't help as the Chief only sighed. The day after Ian had been kidnapped the Spartan and a squadron of marines had been scavenging the city, searching for any clues. Unfortunately there were even less Covenant forces than before, and the ones they did find offered no assistance. The Chief suspected they didn't even know any human language.

"This is a waste of time," he suddenly overheard a marine say. "Why would the Covenant want a kid?"

Staying in his spot, the Spartan shot a glare at the rookie. The smaller man didn't need to see the super-soldier's eyes to flinch from the gaze. Assured he got the message, the Chief looked away in thought. He was interrupted with a call.

"Hey, Chief!" another soldier hollered.

"Yes?" the Spartan replied.

He looked up towards the direction of the sound to see yet another marine, an identical copy to his comrades. He pointed upwards at an angle to his right.

"How about that building?" he suggested. "It could definitely give us some recon."

The Master Chief followed his direction to see a large, tall skyscraper towering over its neighboring buildings. It owned some scars and holes from shells and other war products. Even though, it was still perfectly stable and offered multiple purposes for anyone in need.

The Spartan smiled. Why not?

* * *

The Master Chief trotted across the ground, slightly crouching. He skidded to a halt and rammed into a wall, pressing his back against it. He gripped his assault rifle with both hands, the barrel raised upwards. He cautiously looked around the ruined building's corner at his target.

Two dozen meters away was the front steps of the building, leading up to the glass wall of the entrance and the lobby behind it. But surrounding that entrance was Covenant forces, mostly Brutes. They were leisurely patrolling and resting, their equipment spread out across the area. The Chief even saw a Wraith sleeping in the corner, currently shut down but its driver hovering near it. The Covenant got there first. Great.

Well, it was largest amount of aliens they've found all day, plus they weren't just going to walk away leisurely. The Master Chief waited patiently as the other marines got into their positions. Thankfully they saw their enemy from a distance, and had time to divulge a plan.

The Covenant had the advantage of already setting up base; having all of their necessary equipment and numbers, but they didn't choose the best strategic spot. The entire area in front of the building was an open plaza around fifty meters in diameter. The only thing providing shelter were the few equipment and barricades planted in place. Creating a perfect wall around the plaza were multistory buildings, broken by narrow streets. It gave the humans good enough cover and allowed them to set up a few snipers on the higher levels.

It was turning out to be a pretty easy ambush. But the Master Chief was still cautious. Even though it seemed like a perfect base, he couldn't believe the Covenant would ignore such factors. They could have a few tricks up their sleeves. Well, it seemed it was the Brutes were in charge of this squadron. Almost everyone knew they weren't as intelligent as their counterparts, the Elites.

After a long time, the Master Chief finally heard the echo of "ready" signals from multiple marines. The Spartan shifted his weight.

"Alright, on my mark," he ordered. "Three, two, one. NOW!"

Immediately the soldier wheeled around the block of concrete and fired, over a dozen marines following his example. The once quiet plaza filled with lazy aliens was now filled with screams and chaos. In the first wave of bullets, almost half of the Covenant fell.

But the survivors quickly regained themselves and grabbed hold of their tools for a counterattack. Brutes fired aggressively at the buildings, outraged at the attack. Rage must have been blinding their vision, because their aim was poor, firing more at walls of concrete than actual human flesh. Thankfully the Wraith wasn't moving yet; a sniper who must have been a genius took out the driver first. But that wasn't long though as a new Brute scrambled into the cockpit, able to make the deadly hailstorm.

Immediately the alien tank roared with life, rising to a few inches off the ground and impeded armor projecting outwards, including its powerful canon. The tank twitched a little as the Brute pondered where to aim. Finally a great ball of blue fire shot from the canon, arching over the plaza and forcefully slamming into a nearby alley. The air was filled with an electrical explosion and few human screams.

The Master Chief grinded his teeth. "Destroy the tank!"

He turned again and focused his aim on the beast. But the tank was able to position behind some barricades from the Chief's position, and what hit bounced off harmlessly. The Spartan growled and realized he would have to do something crazy. He would have to take out the Wraith himself.

He gave a few moments of bracing himself before drawing a breath. He lunged from his position and charged at full speed at the tank. A few alien warriors tried to intercept him, but a clear shot from his still loaded magnum took care of them. But he was only halfway to his target when suddenly someone screamed, "Chief! Watch out!"

Instantaneously red plasma engulfed the giant, provoking a startled grunt. He automatically switched his course and skidded behind a barricade. Now protected, he peered around the metal to spy two plasma shielded stationary guns had been set up by the glass entrance. Well, the Spartan suspected they would have tricks.

_But I have some, too_, he thought cunningly.

Crouching out of sight from his enemies, The Chief pulled out a frag grenade from his belt. But before he could pull off the top, a roaring sound filled his hearing. A blue explosion slammed into the barricade with a clap of thunder. Thankfully the barricade was steady enough to stay in place, but it jolted, knocking into the Spartan. He growled, but chose to ignore.

He continued on with his task, ripping off the grenade's flask. He then tossed the ticking bomb over his head, sending it flying over the Covenant's heads. After several moments of flight, it came down to gun, exploding impact. The blast spread to the turret, completely destroying it along with its Grunt who let out a high-pitched scream. At the same moment, a sniper took out its partner.

The Chief grinned, and a few moments later, another explosion rose into the plaza, reverberating the ground. The Wraith had been destroyed. The big threats out of the way, the Master Chief rose from his shelter and began to open fire once again. By now there were only a handful of survivors, and they were terminated quickly.

The military leader lowered his weapon and let himself relax a little while the marines came from their own shelters, whooping in victory. Even though their mission was to question Covenant soldiers, they knew by now the aliens would not talk. And the battle happened too fast and the invaders were too angry to allow the UNSC forces to take any prisoners. The Chief turned to a nearing lieutenant.

"How many casualties?" he asked.

"Four," the woman replied.

The Chief turned back towards the building. Honestly more than he wanted, but it could be worse. He still had a good number of marines currently under his command. With a single wave of his hand as a signal, they moved inside.

* * *

The inside the building had a faint scent of musk that grew stronger each level up. The layer of dust grew, too. The only thing that remained constant was the amount of debris and ruins crowding the space, hinting that the Covenant had ransacked the building and it had seen more war than they originally thought. But no one complained as they steadily climbed the tower, on guard for any ambushes. Thankfully the building held no surprises save for a handful of deserting Jackals and Grunts.

They were now on one of upper floors, owning a wide view of the city and seeing far out on the horizon. The Master Chief settled next to a marine who have a pair of high-tech binoculars glued to his face, shielding his eyes. He was looking out a broken wall that was exposed to the outside world.

"I'm not really seeing anything," the man reported. "Uh, you mind telling exactly what we're looking for, again?"

"Any signs of Covenant activity would be a start," the Chief replied.

His subordinate nodded in confirmation and continued his task. But only a second past before someone hollered from the other side of the room.

"Um… Chief, you might want to look at this," someone whined, uncertain of the value of his words.

The Spartan looked over his shoulder to see the marine was looking out another tear in the wall on the opposite side, also owning binoculars. The soldier left his spot and made his way over. He halted next to the shorter man and peered across the city to see a perfect view of a Covenant Cruiser. The Chief wasn't surprised; it was the one that had been there ever since this thing started.

It shadowed almost half the city, being almost city-size itself. It was long and narrow, with sleek alien metal curving at different angles. **(I'm not going to go into depth because we all know what a Cruiser looks like.) **Projecting from the belly of the beast was a long, slightly transparent purple beam that reached toward the ground. It disappeared behind structures of ruined buildings, where it would end at the ground. That was no surprise, either. It was an anti-gravity pad where the Covenant traded supplies.

At first the Master Chief was bored with scene, seeing nothing abnormal. But he quickly realized that something was off. He noticed multiple black specs racing up the beam, sometimes one at a time and others in a group like swarm. The Spartan quickly realized what those "specs" were.

"Those are supplies and equipment," he announced. "The Covenant is packing up."

"Yeah, but for what?" his fellow marine asked.

As in answer, right on cue the last of the specs disappeared inside the ship and without warning the ominous beam switched off. The marine exchanged glances with the lieutenant.

"Uh, oh," they whimpered in unison.

There was only one reason why a grounded Cruiser would ever shut off the pad like that. They were preparing to leave. In a hurry.

Immediately the Master Chief turned away and switched his com-link to the channel connecting to the Frigate.

"Commander Keyes, we may have a situation," he reported.

"Already on it," Miranda replied. "A Pelican is picking you up. You are to return immediately."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Sir, the Prophet is bugging-out. Request permission to engage!" Miranda demanded hastily.

She stared down at the tiny screen composing of Lord Hood, who stared back up at her but obviously distracted by the busy commander center around him.

"Negative, Commander," the old man replied stubbornly.

Miranda bit her lip and sucked in a breath to control her frustration. Suddenly a call from one of her technicians drew her away.

"Ma'am, Slipspace rupture off the target's bow!" the man reported. "It's going to jump, _inside_ the city!"

The Commander focused her gaze on yet another monitor. This one showed the Carrier from one of the Frigate's outside cameras. It was moving over the city like they were predicting, accelerating with each second. But suddenly a burst of light appeared on the tip of a bow like there was some sort of explosion. Purplish electricity pulsed around the explosion. But despite the strange colors, the Cruiser continued its pace, pushing into the light. The explosion bended with the force, like its invader was pressing it as if it was a solid object. Miranda Keyes knew it wasn't light at all. It was space. The Cruiser was bending space.

She twisted back to the video-com containing Lord Hood. "There's no time, sir!"

The naval commander looked away in thought. After a long moment, he refused to look at her as he said, "Green light. Green light to engage."

Immediately the young woman whirled to face her awaiting crew of technicians.

"Get us close!" she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am!"

The commander center came alive with the sounds of furious tapping and pounding. The crew was so focused on their task they barely noticed a Pelican pulling into an open hanger. They were so oblivious to this the second the drop-ship entered, the Frigate gigantic engines blasted, sending the ship forward.

They rammed right into the Cruiser, but the alien ship was so focused on its task it paid no attention to them. As the human battle ship pulled next to the other, it just showed the significant size difference. The _In Armor Clad _was like a bug compared to massive, bulky Cruiser. But this allowed them to slip in one of the giant's alcoves, now forced to follow along as finally the bow pushed into the bended space. Immediately the rest of the ship (and the Frigate) slipped in after it and ceased to exist.

But the Covenant was not aware of the consequences of their actions.

Just as the silhouette of the stern disappeared into the strange portal, the light lost control. With a deafening sound like a nuclear bomb's, the light exploded. The portal of bended space grew into a dome of light and electricity. The dome rapidly grew larger and larger, consuming its surroundings and destroying anything in its way.

In a matter of moments, the entire city was annihilated.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, finally a longer chapter! Sorry guys for failing my promise at trying to give this story more potential. I'm just having very lack of ideas with this story. So expect fluctuating chapter sizes from now on, but that's how most of my stories role.**


	12. Chapter 12

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. The endless blackness was only broken by debris passing as planets and twinkles of light from the far stretches of space. In one particular realm of this darkness, the space was dominated by a gigantic aqua-blue planet, wisps of great storms brushing along its surface. Several moons of various sizes twirled around it, forever tied to an endless cycle. Other than this, it was empty, silent.

Suddenly this vacuum was filled by a burst of intense light. Immediately a large, formidable Assault Carrier slipped out of the explosion and fell into the strange realm. Debris of captured ruins from a human city followed the alien craft, creating a strange, broke cloud around it. In this cloud the _In Armor Clad_ was forced to follow along until it finally gained control and coming to an abrupt halt.

Miranda grunted as she was lurched forward from the momentum, clutching her armrests to keep from flying to the other side of the ship. Once recovering from disorientation, the commander went on to the next order of business.

"Report," she demanded.

"Both engine cores have spun to zero. We're drifting," a technician reported.

"Archer pods are cold. I'll need to rekey the system," another suggested.

"Do it. And find out where we are," their commander ordered.

But as she looked up, she trained her eyes on a monitor in front of her. It was a screen filled with the view in front of the ship, filled with slowly drifting debris crawling through space. Miranda stared, transfixed, as the structures slid out of the way, revealing a new one.

At first Miranda was convinced it was just another piece of junk that happened to be oddly-shaped, or it was even her imagination, but no. Just outside the debris cloud, squeezed between them and the overbearing planet, was a perfectly shaped ring. It was obviously made of some sort of metal, but it seemed to have an alien shade that not even the Covenant knew of. Miranda blinked to find metal was not the only thing it composed of.

As a gray, armor-like shell wrapped around the outside, the inside of the ring was completely different. Shades of blue, brown, green, and white colored the inside, all bending in different shapes. It was oceans and continents, with clouds rolling over them. It was like someone had cut off a piece of the Earth and then glued it to the inside of a ring. But this ring wasn't one to put on your finger.

As it was the size of a planet.

"Cortana, what exactly am I looking at?" Miranda asked through a curious whisper.

"That," the AI replied, "is another Halo."

Over the radio Miranda heard Sergeant Johnson choke, probably on the heavy smoke of one of his thick cigars.

"SAY WHAT?" he gasped.

"So this is what my father found," Miranda murmured. She pulled herself together as she realized she was beginning to lean off her seat, literally sitting on the edge. She fell back and pressed her back against her chair, now composed. "I guess we suspected its existence. Cortana, I want all the information you've got on the first Halo. Schematics, topography, whatever. I don't care if I have the clearance or not."

"Yes, ma'am," Cortana replied.

The AI clicked off, where the woman focused on her technicians again.

"Where's our target?" she asked.

"The enemy ship has stopped above the ring, ma'am," an officer replied obediently. "We're going to pass right over it."

"Perfect. It's safe to say the Covenant came here because of Ian, since we were warned of their intentions. But I feel like there's something more to this, especially this 'Prophet of Regret' character."

"What do you want to do?" the Master's Chief deep voice rumbled over the communications.

Commander Keyes paused for a moment to think, but she didn't have to long. "Master Chief, find that Prophet. Take him out. No doubt Ian will be close by; and once you kill him, his forces will scatter. It will give us an advantage."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'm launching a party to land on the ring and follow them in. Chief, take first platoon. Hard drop, secure a landing zone. Sergeant, load up two flights of Pelicans and follow them in."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Jonson chirped excitingly.

"Be careful, you two," the young commander went on. "Until I can move and fight I'm going to keep a low profile. Once you leave the ship, you're on your own."

"Understood," the Chief hummed.

Having told her orders and everything that was on her mind, Miranda clicked off. She turned to yet another technician who was patiently waiting for orders.

"Bring us in," she ordered.

The technician nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to his station. As the crew returned to their duties, Miranda leaned back in her chair, her stern gaze never leaving the great ring called Halo.

* * *

Meanwhile, several decks below, there was a dark and narrow bottom hanger. Pitch-black rectangular pods that stood vertically lined the hanger, side-by-side in perfect rows. Below each pod was a trapdoor that would snap open the second they were in the exact position. Every pod was filled. ODST hell-jumpers were cocooned inside all the pods save only one. That one held the Master Chief, patiently waiting like all the others.

As the Frigate slowly moved into position, the Spartan could not pry his gaze from the monitor in front of him. It was a tiny screen filled with a picture of Halo, similar to the one in the Commander's bridge.

The Chief knew it. Ian was on that thing. Or at least going to be.

_Hold on, Ian,_ he thought. _I _will _find you._

* * *

Not too far from the drifting _In Armor Clad_, the _Solemn Penance _was crawling across the vacuum of space, falling into orbit around its target.

Surprising its control room was quieter than normal. It was mostly due to the shipping out of technicians and soldiers to explore the ring. The Prophet of Regret and his own forces were set to follow once they got their report.

But the control room was still busy, crewman working hard to carry out their duties successfully and impress their Supreme Commander. Ian ignored these aliens, much more interested in what lay before him.

Halo.

So this is what the Covenant wanted. This is why they wanted _him_.

It was a weapon. A super-weapon. Halo was created to be the perfect piece of technology, designed to destroy the entire galaxy on a single charge.

_And they want me to control, _Ian realized.

At first he was confused. He felt those old fears started to well up in his chest. They were going to make him destroy _everything_. Finally, though, his anxiety faded when he realized something. Halo was _technology_. He could control it, not them. He could call the shots. So technically, he didn't have to do anything. And he wouldn't have to use Halo against the galaxy; he could use it against the _Covenant_. He could end the war, all by himself.

But as the Assault Carrier pulled closer to the super-ring and Ian observed it more, his excitement began to be replaced by anxiety again.

What was he talking about? He could barely control computer. Heck, even a light bulb scared him. Yet he was thinking of taking over _this_. A super-weapon—the size of a planet.

The young boy began to quiver slightly. No, it was impossible. There was no way he could control this. Even when he was supposed to activate it or whatever, he would not be able to stand a chance.

Yes, he didn't have to try to know that. He could feel it. Halo was telling him that.

_No one _could control Halo. Halo controlled itself.

* * *

**I know, boring chapter. You probably noticed by now, but most of the lines belong to the Halo franchise, I'm only borrowing them. I did change a few things though, to keep it fresh.**


	13. Chapter 13

"How are you doing?" the Master Chief asked.

"I think I'm deaf," Cortana replied.

The Spartan chuckled, remembering her earlier complaint of the noise. Surrounding them were ruins of an ancient temple, but its purpose, no one knew. Fresh foliage made up most of the landscape, soft grass covering the ground and healthy trees fanning across their place. Large boulders and cliffs towered over the area, creating overcasting shadows. This plateau looked over a large lake, crystal blue against the sky.

It was a beautiful place. But now it was contaminated with blood stains and a layer of corpses. The stench of death was already rising into the air.

It was the result of the Master Chief and his forces eliminating waves of Covenant, hand-delivered by several Phantoms. They were most likely patrols, which unfortunately passed the UNSC landing zone.

"Are there any more?" the Chief asked, on guard for any more surprises.

"I don't detect anything," Cortana reported. "You're clear." She clicked to another channel. "Sergeant Johnson, all Covenant forces have been neutralized, you have permission to land."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Johnson replied. "Hang tight."

The Chief and the surviving ODST soldiers had to wait only for a few minutes before a familiar roar came from nearby. Two Pelicans pulled from around the other side of the overhanging cliff. Their metal shone brightly against the bright sun. The Chief noticed a Warthog hanging from one of them, tightly bound to its carrier.

One of the Pelicans remained hovering above the lake as the other with the Warthog moved in. It carefully found a spot within the landscape to lower. The Spartan heard its pilot over the radio.

"Here's a present for you, Chief," the woman said. "Take the Warthog."

The Master Chief nodded gratefully. As he waited for the Pelican to settle, he listened to Johnson's own report.

"I got a good view comin' in," he announced. "There's a big building in the middle of this island's lake."

"I saw it, too," Cortana replied. "It looks like a temple. If I were a megalomaniac—which I'm not—that's where I'd be."

"Then let's go," the Chief suggested, just as the Warthog fell from its binds, bouncing a little from impact.

The Pelican rose back up out of the way, allowing the Spartan to pile in the war vehicle. He patiently waited for two volunteers to join him; one taking the turret and the other taking shotgun. Once everyone was settled, the Chief slammed the gas, lurching the car forward.

The Warthog raced away, the Spartan roughly steering it. He drove into a small canyon between two cliffs, where he slightly sped up.

They exited the shadowed canyon in a matter of moments thanks to the Chief's impressive speed. They found themselves in bright sunlight again, the terrain just as fresh. But the Chief still slammed on the brakes and turned the car, forcing the vehicle to skid to a halt. The humans gapped at the sight before them.

The view here was slightly similar to the where they landed, but different enough to leave an impression. The Warthog rested on top of a cliff that was part of a plateau overlooking a gigantic lake. The lake itself was huge: two times bigger than the previous one, which was an impressive size itself. The water was completely unmoving and completely flat, looking much like a mirror more than anything else. Strangely-shaped exotic birds—most likely natives to Halo—fluttered over the landscape, letting out high-pitched cries.

What was the most interesting of the lake was what it held. Three large structures occupied it. They looked similar to the ruins from before: ancient-looking golden stones, worn from centuries of erosion. The structures were triangular shaped: broad near the water but ended at a blunt point at the top. Broad support pillars could be seen jutting out of the water, holding the alien buildings carefully.

The Master Chief couldn't find any other description than that they had to be temples. Sacred temples guarded by the lake and the outside ruins. Cortana was right. That's exactly where a religious figure would hide.

The Spartan was so transfixed that the turret-operator had to snap him out of it.

"Hey, Chief," he called uneasily. "What's that over there?"

The superior followed his indicated direction to see an interesting sight. It was on the opposite side of the lake, tucked behind the temples and almost hidden from view. It was a large, forbidding silhouette of a great barrier. Nothing could be seen behind the gray wall except dark, ominous clouds that loomed close to the ring's surface.

The shot looked out of place, like someone had manipulated a picture. Something so dark against something so beautiful. But the warning was clear: stay away.

The Master Chief narrowed his eyes. Whatever it was, it didn't concern them. He turned away and focused his gaze on something else. In the very center of the lake was one of the temples. It was noticeably larger than the others, signaling it must be the main temple.

"Cortana," he barked, "contact Commander Keyes. Tell her we found out target."

* * *

By now Ian was getting used to being surrounded by Covenant. He was getting used to curious or even loathing stares boring into him. But what he was _not_ used to was being a matter of feet from Prophet Lunatic.

Ian was forced to accompany the Prophet of Regret on his journey to the ring, along with the Prophet's formidable Honor Guard. The tall Elites dressed in relic-like armor stared at the boy with narrowed eyes. They were ready to pounce on him if he thought of escape or worse—thought of attacking their sacred leader.

_Whatever, I don't want him anyway,_ Ian wanted to reply.

He was only grateful that Glacier was coming along. He was the only Elite that wasn't suspicious of the human, and better yet, the only one who wasn't obsessed with this religious nonsense. Whenever Regret would go off rambling, Glacier would only hum along only when he was supposed to, but was obviously filled with uninterest. And never once did he make a reference to his religion. Ian began to wonder if he even had one. And of course, that led to the boy wondering how the well-respected commander got into the Covenant, anyway.

The party was on Halo now, traveling through ancient ruins of temples and buildings. Ian stayed alongside a hovering Regret with Glacier taking up the rear. A ring of Honor Guards surrounded them. While the aliens focused on their tasks, Ian couldn't stop staring at his environment. This place was so beautiful. It was so hard to believe it was part of something meant for destruction. Was Halo that sinister?

Ian followed his captors as they traveled down a dark, gloomy hallway in an identical temple on the coast of the lake. The golden stone looked gray and a fine layer of dust lingered, but it didn't seem to bother anyone. But Ian couldn't help but note he felt like he was in one of those horror or treasure movies.

The tunnel was long, taking them almost half an hour (if Halo even had an hour) to go through it. Ian was just getting bored with his surroundings until finally he blinked to find a rectangular, vertical entrance up ahead, slightly glowing with light behind it. Ian tried to get a view of what was behind, but the tall figures of the Elites before him blocked it out.

But he didn't have to wait long before he stepped into the entrance, the dim light embracing him. He blinked to find himself in a new room.

It was almost perfectly circular, not a single straight edge in sight. Rectangular pillars circled around the room holding the roof, looking like unmoving guardians. The roof itself wasn't in the best shape: cracks creating a web across the surface, broken by gaping holes. Three more ragged holes were clustered in the center of the ceiling, open to the elements above. Bright sunshine poured through, having the holes glow a bright white and serving as the only light. Directly underneath the skylight was a panel.

It was a circular table reaching to the Elites' waists and around the size of a Warthog's tire in width. A perfectly flat green material lined the top, looking like some colored mirror. Ian could even see his own reflection.

He stared at it curiously, blinking. Regret was observing it, too, but his narrowed eyes were stern and a hard expression was on his face. The prophet turned to his prisoner.

"Put you hand over the structure, boy," he ordered.

"Eh?"

"Do it."

Regret's voice was firmer this time, and Ian saw in the edges of his vision of Elites ready to give him some "encouragement." Glacier stood to the side with no sign of intervening, arms folded.

Ian gulped, understanding he had no choice. He crossed over to the panel and cautiously hovered his right hand over the green surface. It was only a few moments of silence before Ian felt his mind going numb. Uh, oh, he knew what this led to.

Knowing resistance was futile, he allowed his subconscious to give in. He felt those strange instincts stir awake and reach out towards the panel. Only when they did, Ian's body flinched as suddenly he felt his mind being dragged in.

Immediately data, systems, languages and much more—all unknown to Ian—flashed before his eyes. His mind was engrossed by the knowledge, speeding through it far faster than he thought possible. Even though he couldn't comprehend any of it, he knew what he was seeing.

Halo.

Halo was showing him its secrets. But Ian could tell something. It was his instincts that were telling him. Halo was laughing at him. Laughing at him that he dared meddle with its inner circuitry.

Even though, it rewarded him. Suddenly a bright flash filled Ian's vision and he felt his mind being released. Immediately the side-effects kicked in, his body going numb and his head swirling with dizziness. He groaned and sensed himself stumbling backwards. But before he could crumble to the floor, he felt cold, but protective hands wrap around him and strong arms catching him. He knew immediately who it was. Glacier.

The Supreme Commander glanced from the boy to his superior.

"May I advise you to be careful," he told Regret. "This specimen is fragile."

The Prophet completely ignored him. Instead, the alien stared at what was before him. The green panel was now glowing, and the room had a new feature. Complex holograms floated over the panel, specs of information continuously racing in different directions. The hologram emanated a bluish-green glow, the shine reflecting off Regret's face.

Ian blinked. _Did I do that?_

The religious leader raised his hand from his throne and reached out towards it. His hand slipped through the image, disrupting it but also like it was not there. He indicated to a block of knowledge.

"There is the Sacred Icon," he informed. He pulled his hand out and went on. "Virl 'Sadumee, you are to report to the other Prophets. Have them find the Arbiter. His mission is to retrieve it."


	14. Chapter 14

Ian huddled in his spot, trying to hide from the Covenant surrounding him. Pillars of ruins and decorative waterfalls were scattered across the giant room, once again misleading to the situation.

The Covenant were eagerly waiting for the moment to celebrate their conquest of Halo. Meanwhile, their religious leader, Regret, was going on and on upon a speech about their religion and victory. He was speaking in another language, so Ian had no idea what he was saying, but the Prophet was still annoying.

After Ian "so willingly" gave them the coordinates of this "Sacred Icon," the party moved on to the lake itself. They now set up base on a temple in the center of the water, safe from their enemies but in control of their forces. More Honor Guards had joined them and even a few Jackals and Grunts. Ian even saw a couple of Brutes.

The human was forced to come along, but was being highly ignored. Though he knew if he tried anything, his captors would strike at him. So instead he took advantage of his neglect to shrink in a corner out of sight. He had his legs bent, wrapping his arms around them and his chin resting on his knees. Suddenly Regret shrieked, breaking his thoughts.

"The Demon is here?" he roared.

The poor rookie Honor Guard in front of him nodded hastily. Regret gritted his teeth.

"Send a force to its last location," he ordered. "Make sure the pest is rid from our holy place!" When the Elite hesitated, the Prophet got upset. "GO!"

Immediately the young recruit whirled around and scurried towards the room's entrance. Half of the room watched him go with amusement. But the Honor Guard never got to see the outside.

Just as the Elite stepped into the entrance, he froze. Before anyone could blink, his body jerked, accompanied by a loud _clap._ Everything was completely silent as the creature crumbled backwards, like someone had knocked over a tower. In his place was a new figure. The Master Chief.

He was completely composed as he gripped the shotgun in his hands. Ian couldn't help but give a gasp of relief, but he was the only one. The Prophet of Regret gave another shriek, louder than before.

"Kill the Demon!" he screeched. "Kill him! Kill him! KILL HIM!"

Immediately a swarm of Honor Guards and their subordinates pounced on the intruder like a pack of hungry wolves. The dome was broken with another _crack_. The Chief broke through, striking his enemies down at an impossible rate. It was just a few moments when more than half of the Spartan's opponents were neutralized. The survivors scrambled away, not wanting to face the same fate.

The Chief took advantage of their hesitation to take a menacing step forward. He cocked his shotgun, making sure everyone heard the sound and got the message. And then he aimed it at the Prophet of Regret.

"You have something that belongs to me," the giant growled.

"I beg to differ, Demon," Regret hissed with poison.

Suddenly the Prophet motioned his hand, where several more Honor Guards pounced on the Spartan. But the super-soldier was quick to react.

He switched his aim from Regret to one of the Elites, firing and killing him instantly. He then drove the butt of his gun to another's skull, destroying him as well. The Chief shoved the others off and they once again pulled away.

At the same instant, the Master Chief ripped a magnum from his belt and trained it at the Prophet. There was a crack of thunder with a bright flash as the weapon fired. Ian's heart stopped, waiting for the moment of truth, but it never happened. A _clink_ was heard, and everyone looked to see Regret still posed on his flying throne. The Spartan's attack _missed_.

Even though the armor hid his reaction, Ian could notice the Chief stiffening. Regret's eyes narrowed to angry slits.

"Is that all that you have?"

Immediately after his words, a taller Honor Guard materialized by the Chief's side. In its hand was a long, narrow weapon. An Energy Sword.

"Chief!" Ian cried, unable to watch history repeat itself.

But the Spartan simple twisted to dodge the attack. As the Elite tried to strike at its prey, the Chief pushed its arm away, ripped the weapon out of its grasp, and drove it into the monster's stomach. The sizzling of electricity was only deafened by the beast's roar.

The victim hadn't even began to collapse as suddenly the Master Chief whirled around, charging for the Prophet. Everyone was caught off guard, not expecting the ploy. The reaction was simply to freeze. The only one who moved was Regret as he tried to manipulate his throne away from his attacker. But it was too late.

Looking like an oversized cat, the Chief sprung up and latched onto the Prophet's throne. In the same motion, the man hoisted himself up where he was near eye level with the alien. The extra weight appeared to put a painful strain on the device, but it stayed.

Then in a blink of an eye, the Spartan balled his fist and delivered a savage blow to Regret's shoulder. The Prophet sounded almost exactly like a vulture as he screeched in pain. No doubt his fragile collarbone was shattered. The Chief brought his fist back to send another attack, but the crippled leader was able to move faster. He fumbled for a button on his dashboard, where he pressed it just before the human's fist drove into another bone.

Without warning, an invisible force poured from Regret's carrier from all directions. Only Ian could notice the bubble of magnetic force that formed in a matter of nanoseconds. So that's what caused the bullet to miss. The attack ripped the Master Chief off, flinging the heavy soldier flying across the room. The Spartan crashed onto his back on the stone floor with a loud grunt.

Ian willed for him to get up, but the giant's motionless signaled he was dazed. He was forced to watch in terror as Regret slowly neared his fallen prey. And then his eyes fell to something near his feet.

* * *

The Master Chief's body was sore and numb from his long day of war, and Regret's attack didn't help. His head was spinning and his vision was completely blurred, unfocused and doubled. All he could tell was that a figure was nearing him, but he was too disoriented to retaliate. The Prophet of Regret was a meter from his target, eyes narrowed with disdain. He played with a couple of his buttons.

"I will end this," he vowed.

Suddenly the orb on the throne's light began to glow. The Chief squinted his eyes as he stared at the shine as it grew brighter and brighter. Eventually it became more painful than looking directly at the sun.

But despite the intense light and impaired vision, the Spartan noticed movement in the corner of his vision. He glanced over to see Ian sliding from the shadows. The young boy's body was rigid, and his eyes appeared wide and confused. He looked scared. Thought something else was about the boy. He stood in a weird position, his left leg before his right and both legs subtly bent. His crooked arms were being held in front of him, close together to form a branch. And in his hands was the very magnum the Chief had dropped.

Time to seem to slow.

Ian's hands jerked along with the gun in a slow motion. In the same instant, there was a short flash and a muffled bang. From his position, the Chief watched as the bronze bullet tore through the air at an agonizing rate. Finally he watched as it made its way to Regret's head. The object didn't even seem to strike the leader as he lurched to the side. The bullet disappeared, and in its place was a stream of blood crawling into the air.

Time sped back up when the Chief's sensitive hearing was deafened by a high-pitched, gurgling scream of death. Regret's throne collapsed, crashing onto the floor. Its occupant spilled over the side, blood and remnants of its brain covering it. The Prophet of Regret was dead.

By now, the Master Chief was recovered, scrambling to his feet but stiff with shock. The very few survivors of the Covenant were gone, what was left of their nerve failing them. But the Spartan didn't care about them. He snapped his head towards Ian's direction, seeing the boy was trembling and his eyes were wider than before.

At an incredible speed, the Chief raced over to the boy just as he fell to his knees, gripping his head. The soldier skidded to his knees as well, halting by Ian's side. He was ignored. In an act completely foreign to him, the Spartan grabbed the boy and pulled him to his chest. He wrapped his arms around the younger human, careful to protect him but not to accidently crush him. He wanted to give the boy security more than comfort.

Ian only shivered.


	15. Chapter 15

The Master Chief and Ian slowly walked onto the main temple's courtyard, even more corpses lining the floor. Ian paid no attention to them as he simply stared into nothing, emotionless and eyes glazed. Neither talked.

Aware they had to leave, the Chief gently ushered Ian towards to the side of the temple. A Pelican was picking them up, and the Spartan didn't want the kid to be exposed to any more death. They rounded a corner, coming onto a narrow path. Exterior pillars lined the wall, creating deep shadows in between them.

Ian was trying to fight his depressing spell, but it was hard. He tried to focus on the Chief's back, hoping that would help. But a suddenly movement tore his gaze. Without warning, a large stick shot from the shadows and struck at the Spartan. It was only thanks to that fact he was a Spartan and his thick armor that he was saved from decapitation as the Gravity Hammer slammed onto his head.

"Chief!" Ian screeched, watching the giant crumble before his very eyes.

The Master Chief fell face-first and remained motionless, unconscious. Ian tried to jump to the soldier's aid, but suddenly strong hands grabbed him and pulled him back. A subzero chill crawled up his spine as he heard a familiar chuckle.

"Tried to get away, did you?" Glacier chuckled.

Ian froze as he saw a flash of white armor from the shadows. The tall Elite slowly stepped from the pillars, an even taller black-furred Chieftain hovering over his shoulder, gripping its precious hammer. They both seemed very amused at the situation.

Ian roared, but the Elite behind him held him in place. Glacier smirked again.

"Come, we are to report to the Hierarchs on High Charity," he announced to the party. Without even glancing at Ian, the Supreme Commander stepped from his spot and headed towards back to the main courtyard.

Meanwhile, the Chieftain glanced at the Spartan's body. On the back of the soldier's head was the glint of an impeded chip. Ian was horrified to see the ape's eyes brighten with glee. The beast bent down, but Glacier's order stopped him.

"Leave her," he growled sternly. "She is not a priority." The Brute flinched, where Glacier turned his glare to Ian. "But the boy is."

* * *

"Chief… Chief… CHIEF!"

The Master Chief's eyes snapped open with a gasp. In a panic, he tried to leap up, only to feel a savage blow to his head and a wave of pain to course through his body. He groaned and touched his head to the pavement.

"What happened?" he croaked.

"We were ambushed," Cortana explained. "That Brute hit you pretty hard."

"Ian?"

"Gone."

The Chief cursed. Those bastards didn't know when to quit, did they? He wormed his stiff arms underneath his chest to prop himself up as he tried to regain his strength. Cortana tried to coax him to stay in place and wait for reinforcements, but the soldier ignored her.

After what felt like eternity, his foggy head cleared a little to allow his body to obey him. The soreness seemed to subside a little—still a killer—but the super-soldier was used to dealing with pain. Even though, he was very slow and careful as he moved his limbs inch-by-inch. He bent his knees underneath him and balanced on his palms. With a grunt of effort, he pushed off and straightened his legs.

He found himself standing finally, but his body screamed with protest. His muscles seemed to twitch and convulse in pain every time he moved, even though he was stationary. He could tell that his brain and body weren't working properly at the moment. If that attack did some kind of brain damage, that Brute was going to pay. The Chief didn't care how crippled he might be.

"Where did they go?" he asked Cortana.

"Chief, you really need a vacation," she grumbled in response.

"Cortana."

"Look up."

The Spartan obeyed, only for his heart to drop. Dominating the sky far above him—probably not even in atmosphere—was a _very _large structure. Its purple alien metal was outlined against its blue canvas, allowing one to see its shape clearly. It almost looked like a giant mushroom: a slender frame below with an over-sized dome on top. But the Chief knew it was no weird fungi. It was High Charity, the Covenant's capital holy city.

His heart sunk even further as he noticed the hundreds, maybe _thousands_, of Cruisers and other Covenant ships swarming around the great structure. It was no doubt the largest fleet ever seen by man.

"Um, Chief…" Cortana suddenly whined.

The Spartan snapped his head back to the ring's surface. "What?"

"A Covenant Cruiser has just locked on our position. I suggest you run. _Now_."

The Chief looked up to see a large Assault Cruiser slowly pulling over the lake. Its humongous form began to block out the sky, even hiding High Charity from view. A pitch-black shadow followed from below, turning the land into night. The Spartan's stomach churned as he peered through the darkness to see the Cruiser's belly begin to glow.

Without hesitating, he turned on his heels and lunged into a frantic sprint. It felt he hadn't even taken a step with suddenly the land shook violently, knocking the already unstable soldier off his feet. He caught himself from slamming onto the ground, his palms breaking his fall. Before picking himself up though, he looked over his shoulder to look for the source. What he saw formed a knot of dread in his chest.

A powerful, tense beam was now projecting from the Cruiser, digging into the ring. But instead of a being a simple gravity lift, the Chief noticed the ground it touch being torn, like the beam was literally tearing it apart. And the beam was getting bigger.

The Spartan crawled to his feet and continued his mad run. Although it felt like the faster he ran, the more the earth shook and the heat from the attack grew nearer.

"CHIEF!" Cortana suddenly screamed, her yell almost deafening her companion.

An instant later the Chief felt a tremendous force ram into him. Instead of knocking him to his feet, it literally threw him: his feet leaving the ground and his body being pushed through the air. Pain coursed through his body and the Chief was helpless as he could only watch his flight through an unfocused vision.

Finally he saw a blue barrier materialize before him and crash into a new force. A thick film of liquid and bubbles suffocated him, an endless background of darkness behind.

And then the Master Chief felt nothing.


	16. Chapter 16

"I hope you all go to hell!" Ian screeched, two Elites holding him on either side. He was squirming so much they were forced to lift him off the ground.

"Cease your cursing or you will be punished," Glacier muttered, his patience thinning.

Ian had resisted ever since they recaptured him, and all they could do was keep him still. It would be the other Hierarchs to decide his fate. But that task was easier said than done.

Ian heart wouldn't slow down. He was on High Charity! He was in the headquarters of his greatest enemy. And there was no one to help him here. Even worse, he had killed their sacred leader. They _had _to know he killed him, right?

And they were going to punish him, Ian knew it. That terrified him. He had a feeling that the Covenant's justice system wasn't as pleasant as the ones on Earth. He imagined suffering years of torture or even an excruciating death. He squirmed even more.

"Let me go!" he cried.

Finally Glacier got annoyed. He whirled around to face the boy. The two Elites released their grip as the commander plucked the human from them, gripping his shirt collar. Ian squeaked, but was defenseless as he was centimeters from the alien's face.

"You. Will. Behave," Glacier threatened, empathizing each word. "There is no hope for you now. So you might as well accept your fate."

Ian didn't really know what he meant by that, but he didn't _want _to know. He replied, but lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

"I thought I could trust you," he confessed.

Glacier gave a small snort. "Don't be so quick to judge," he said softly.

Ian blinked. He felt like Glacier meant more to that, but once again he failed to understand. He couldn't think about it though as his captor released him, having the boy plop onto the ground with a grunt. They exchanged one more glance, but refused to say another word.

Glacier turned around and continued on while Ian's handlers picked up him to his feet. This time he didn't resist and obediently stayed between them. The small party moved on through the winding corridors.

This place seemed even more confusing than on the Cruiser, but much more decorated. There were gardens, exotic plants, hieroglyphics, and other things. It was a city. A giant city just for the Covenant.

Ian had no idea where they were going, but he decided not to ask. They traveled to a tower on the edge of the space city, climbing its levels and journeying through a maze of hallways. Every once in a while they would pass another member, where the comrades would nod greetings, but never a word.

Their travel was interrupted by a commotion. They halted to hear sounds of growling and shoving from around the corner. Curiosity got the better of Glacier, the Supreme Commander following the sounds. The rest of the party had no choice but to follow. They rounded the corner only to witness a horrifying sight.

It was an Elite and a Brute, but something was wrong. The Elite was an Honor Guard, but some of its armor was missing and was instead on the Brute in a haphazard manner. The Brute was trying to rip off the Guard's helmet, a foot pushing against its chest. The Elite was obviously trying to resist, but was defenseless against his tormentor. Finally the Brute rudely yanked off the broad helmet and the Elite crumbled into the wall, looking like a bullied child.

Outrage was the least Glacier was expressing. The Supreme Commander let out a loud roar, making everyone wince.

"Jiralhanae, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded. He continued on before the Brute could answer. "I shall make sure you are trialed! This is inexcusable behavior!"

To everyone's surprise, the Brute only chuckled. "You misunderstand, Commander," he insisted calmly. "I am simply following orders."

"Orders?!"

The Brute slowly nodded, where Glacier whirled to face to the embarrassed Elite.

"Is it true?" he asked.

The ex-Honor Guard nodded slowly, shame filling his eyes.

* * *

Ian followed willingly as his escorts entered a pair of double doors. They stepped through to enter a new room.

The walls were completely made of glass, exposing the view of space and countless Cruisers in orbit around their mothership. The walls were rounded, creating a semicircle against the straight wall of metal, which held the entrance. The room itself was completely bare with a flat floor, save for two hovering figures near the windows.

Ian's heart dropped.

The party neared the figures and then the Elites kneeled, even Glacier. They crossed their left arm over their chests and lowered their heads.

"Prophet of Truth, Prophet of Mercy," Glacier greeted.

The figures turned to reveal who Ian swore were Regret's twin brothers. They were the identical species and wore the exact same royal crimson robes. But the boy was about to point out a couple of differences. Including that they both seemed older than Regret had been, especially the one on the right. This one's skin was paler with a greater amount of wrinkles. They even owned thick eyebrows and an untrimmed beard. It was the one on the left who replied.

"Greetings, Supreme Commander," he hummed, "you may rise."

The Elites rose while Ian continued to observe. The Prophet's voice was calm, slow, like he chose his words carefully, more so than Glacier. His posture was relaxed and his eyes were filled with knowing. He was almost the opposite of Regret, who was always angry and rash.

Glacier gestured to Ian. "We have brought the human, Prophet of Truth."

The Prophet, Truth, nodded. "I see that," he commented. "Thank you."

Glacier seemed to hesitate for a moment, but summoned his courage. "May I discuss something?"

"Depends on what it is," the other Prophet insisted. His voice was cracked and raspy, only proving his old age.

Glacier ignored his comment and went on. "On our way here, we witnessed a Jiralhanae harassing an Honor Guard. He was stealing his armor."

"'Harassing' is a crude word," Truth replied. "That was not the situation."

"Then what was the situation? The Jiralhanae claimed he was following orders."

"He was. You see, the Sangheili have been removed from their position."

The Elites seemed to gasp, and Ian even wanted to join them. Did Truth just say the Elites were being fired?

"What? What for?" Glacier demanded.

"The Elites have failed their duty," Truth explained, using the human term for them. Ian suspected that was for disrespect. "You failed to protect the Prophet of Regret, and so he has been assassinated."

"And you bring the perpetrator here!" the Prophet of Mercy accused, raising a finger.

Ian's heart dropped. So they did know he was responsible. To his surprise, Glacier stood up for his defense.

"The Prophet of Regret was a poor handler and the child was frightened," he explained. "It could have easily been an accident."

"It was intentional!"

Their conversation was interrupted when the door opened. Everyone glanced to see a newcomer. It was a Brute. A _very_ tall Brute.

He was nine feet tall, even taller than Glacier who was the tallest alien Ian met. Until now. The Brute had snow-white thick fur with tuffs of it on his face to form a beard. Another tuff was on his head, looking like a Mohawk that Ian wanted to laugh at. He wore little armor like most of his race, but his weapon made up for it. Ian swore it was the biggest Gravity Hammer he had even seen.

"Tartarus," he heard Glacier mutter, saying it like a curse.

The newcomer, Tartarus, neared the group, a trail of several Brutes behind him. While the Elites seem to bristle at their presence, the Prophets welcomed them.

"Ah, Tartarus," Truth greeted. "Was your mission a success?"

"Yes," the giant Brute replied. The Chieftain settled by Truth's side and folded his arms. Ian looked away when he sensed the beast's stare boring into him. Glacier looked away, too, focusing back to Truth.

"We need the boy alive," he insisted, still desperate to gain mercy.

Truth leaned back and clasped his hands together. "Actually, we don't."

The Elites froze while Ian suffered a heart attack. His eyes widened and his knees felt weak. He was still frozen as the Elites tried to recover. Glacier was the first one, fury thawing his veins.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"We are in possession of the Sacred Icon and have a Reclaimer that will serve us," Truth explained. "The boy has served his purpose."

Ian's knees got weaker, and Glacier's fury grew. The commander narrowed his eyes to slits.

"Countless lives were cost to claim this human," he growled. "Many of our brethren were killed. And you dare tell us it was all for nothing? What have the Councilors said of this?"

Suddenly Tartarus gave a sadistic chuckle, but fought to control it. Ian's party was dismayed to find the Prophets' eyes were also shining with amusement. But Truth blinked his away and said, "They said nothing. And they will say nothing for a long time."

Ian flinched, knowing what the Prophet met. The Councilors were dead.

By now all three Elites were burning with rage and were starting to show it. They fidgeted stressfully and had their eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. Glacier's words were almost a roar. "The Arbiter allowed this?"

"The Arbiter never had a choice," Truth insisted. "His purpose was to serve the Covenant at the cost of his life. And so he has done so." When the Elites growled savagely, he went on with excuses. "He was to die, that is the reason of existence of the Arbiter."

"If you wanted him dead," Glacier growled deeply, his voice even raspy, "then you shouldn't made him our Savior!"

At his yell, Glacier attacked in a blink of an eye. His Energy Sword activated without warning. At the same moment, before the sound even settled, Glacier lunged at Truth, ready to rip him apart. But far too fast for the naked eye, Tartarus lunged to protect his leader. He barged between the two, holding his Gravity Hammer between his hands to block Glacier's attack. The Elite's attack ricocheted, and all hell broke loose.

Ian scrambled (or more like was shoved) out of the way as roars filled the air and the rivals pounced on each other. He heard Tartarus's Hammer slam on the ground, the floor even reverberating. Ian scurried to the opposite side of the room, trying to get a safe distance. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Prophets doing the same, but thankfully they weren't joining him.

From his spot, the human watched the aliens fight each other like a vicious pack of dogs. Glacier was slashing his sword back and forth while performing a dance to avoid his enemies, but the motions were too fast to follow. The two Elites were a little sloppier than their veteran commander, but held their own. They smacked, clawed, and fired at their enemies, actually taking a few down.

But once again Ian was forced to see that they could not last forever, and this time he was forced to watch his realization come true. It seemed as quick as the battle started that the Elites were starting to be pushed back. It was inevitable, sadly, the Elites clearly being outnumbered. But they continued to fight with everything they got.

The battle began to spread out across the room. It was during this when a Brute eyed Ian. The boy flinched as the beast aimed his red plasma rifle at him and fired. Ian braced himself for the unimaginable pain he was about to feel, but it never happened.

Suddenly a blue wall materialized before him, followed by a painful growl. Ian's eyes widened to look up to see one of the Elites before him. The creature looked tired, but he looked over his shoulder at the boy, assurance in his eyes and mandibles curled in a slight grin. Before a word could be said, the Elite jumped away and slipped back into the fight.

Ian stayed where he was, stilled amazed that an Elite had saved him. It was an Elite who had tried to fight for him. In fact, this fight right now was partially over him. Ian lowered his head, his mind going a million miles an hour. They were protecting him…

Suddenly his thoughts were broken by a gurgled cry. He shot his head up to see one of the Elites being thrown, crashing on the ground. He skidded to a halt next to his partner, who was struggling to stand. Glacier raced to their side, also battle-wounded. The Brutes began to surround them, still enough left to fight them and oblivious to their own wounds.

Ian gritted his teeth and charged for the Elites. Instead of going beside them or in front, he slid behind them. Glacier glanced at him.

"What are you doing?" the commander demanded.

Ian ignored him as he gasped the backs of the two Elites. Glacier was squeezed between them, gripping to the more injured one. Ian shut his eyes tight, desperately trying to shut out his panic and the noise. He concentrated, racing through his mind to find his subconscious. It was during this that he felt those alien instincts rise within it. But he didn't resist. He welcomed it.

He fought for the instincts to grow into they dominated his mind. He felt them desperately reaching out, looking for something to grasp. He tried to direct them, hoping to find something of use. His search led him to sense something.

He sensed infinite knowledge and data pouring within the walls. Systems of communications and defense pounded against their surroundings, trying to make their presence kniw. Ian saw it all; exactly like on Halo. Maybe it was Halo who gave him this power.

Ian gritted his teeth as he realized it wasn't Halo that he was seeing; it was the Covenant network. Then he noticed something else. It may not be solid, but it was technology. And Ian could do whatever he wanted with it.

He gripped the Elites' backs even harder as his instincts attached to the network. And then he poured all his will and power on a single thought.

The Brutes were advancing, eager to finish their prey. They raised their weapons and aimed, ready to fire. But they never got the chance.

Suddenly the little human cried out and a brilliant green flash filled the air, almost blinding the Brutes. But the flash was only a blink of an eye. And when the Brutes blinked, the human and the Elites were gone.


	17. Chapter 17

On the other side of High Charity, all was silent and still. No one was passing this sector, too busy with other affairs. This was especially true for a lonely passageway. Exotic plants and unique designs decorate the short, but broad hallway. A holographic monitor was impeded in a single wall, glowing lightly and blinking softly. Data raced back and forth at a regular pace, but suddenly the data began to speed up.

Suddenly the silence was broken with a bright flash. Four figures appeared from oblivion, crashing onto the ground with loud grunts. The Elites moaned from disorientation, their minds whirling as they tried to gain their surroundings. If they were human, they would be suffering an unpleasant experience.

The wounded Elites whined from pain, but tried to pick themselves up. Glacier wasn't as wounded, but was also exhausted. He kneeled on the ground, leaning on his knee and panting. He looked over his shoulder to see Ian lying behind them. The body lay flat on his back, his body perfectly straight. He looked more like a piece of wood than an actual human. His eyes were close tightly and he was panting steadily.

"What did you do?" Glacier breathed.

Ian forced his eyes open to exhausted slits, glancing at the Elite. He gave a small relieved grin.

"Don't ask," he requested, his voice cracking. He closed his eyes and his attempted smile fell. The boy was unconscious.

With a sigh, Glacier pushed himself to his feet. The other Elites followed his example and waited patiently for orders. Glacier gave it to them.

"Find our brothers," he commanded. "Tell them what has happened. We will not let the Brutes get away with this." The Supreme Commander glanced at Ian's body. "I'll take care of the boy."

The Elites nodded and turned around, scurrying away to spread the word. Meanwhile, Glacier gently scooped up Ian, cradling him in his arms. He gave the area one last scan to clear of any spies, before bounding away.

* * *

Ian moaned, a killer migraine pounding his head. He slowly opened his eyes, only for bright light to bore into them. He quickly shut them tight, releasing another groan. His left arm was sprawled over his forehead and the other rested on his stomach. He slowly bent his leg for support.

He felt he was on a flat, metallic surface, but other than that he had no idea where he was. Suddenly a voice spoke.

"Are you awake, Ian?" Glacier's cold voice came, actually mentioning the boy's name.

"Either that or I'm dead," Ian replied.

He blinked again, his eyes adjusting to the light. He looked up to see in fact a Covenant "fluorescent" light shining above him, but it wasn't as bright as he originally thought. He lifted himself up to a sitting position. He found himself on a counter connected to the wall, with a barren room surrounding him. An almost barren room.

Glacier was in the center, staring at him. The commander's pristine armor was dirty with scathes, ashes, and even his violet blood. But the blood stains were well-dried and the Elite didn't seem to be bleeding any more. Ian was still concerned.

"You're hurt," he pointed out.

"I'll live," Glacier grumbled. "I have no more honor left to lose."

The sadness in his voice struck pity in Ian's heart. But knowing pity would probably offend the Elite, he said no more. He slowly slid his legs over the counter, having them hang over the side. The counter was made for Sangheili heights, having the boy suspended in air higher than he wanted to. He didn't complain. Instead, he went straight to business.

"What happens now?" he asked.

Glacier shrugged. "I've been asking myself that this entire time."

"The Elites are going to call for revenge, aren't they?"

"Yes. We already have."

Ian lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered, unable to think anything else than it was his fault.

"It does not concern you," Glacier assured him. "This battle was destined ever since the Covenant was born."

There was silence between the two for a long time. Both injured, tired, and upset, all they wanted was peace with their thoughts. Finally Ian broke the silence.

"Are you going to send me back to Earth?" he asked.

He felt like the Covenant had better things than to worry about than him. They wanted him dead, anyway. It was only the Elites that bothered with him, but it was obvious they didn't want him around either. Home never sounded safer. Except…

"Do you think that will be the best?" Glacier questioned him.

Ian's head went even lower. "I don't know."

Ever since the Chief found him, he knew he was highly unwanted by the humans. All he did was cause more trouble than actual use. And most of all, he had no home to go to. His family was gone, no one liked him, and there was no shelter offered. Everything he lived for and everything he needed to survive was gone. It didn't matter that the Master Chief and the UNSC fought so hard to save him, it was still the truth. Earth was no longer his home.

His hands slapped onto his face and the boy fought the sobs trying to surface. He was the most wanted and _un_wanted being in the galaxy. Both the Covenant and humanity wanted him away, and would to anything to make sure that happened.

"I have nothing left," he whined.

"So do I," Glacier agreed. "But from the ashes of nothing, life can be born again. It was how my species was born; and most likely yours as well." When Ian didn't reply, the Elite went on in a softer tone, "And there is something that can be done for you."

"What? I have no home!"

"There is one place you can take shelter." The ex-Supreme Commander stared at him. "My homeworld, Sanghelios."


	18. Prologue

A tropical jungle surrounded the Master Chief. Exotic plants sprouted from the ground and broad fronds crowded each other. Insects and birds chirped in the distance, oblivious to the coming war. Bright sunlight shone overhead, breaking through the thick canopy and shining on the Spartan.

He hid in the shadows within the foliage, out of sight. His eyes were trained on the single, narrow trail in front of him. He was ahead of the others, and he was waiting for the figure that would naturally be ahead, too.

Finally a bird gave a cry of warning and there was the ruffle of foliage as something very large pushed its way through the African jungle. Heavy footsteps of boots pounded on the hard earth, stepping into view. The Chief narrowed his eyes at the tall creature, even a head taller than him. It had silver, antique armor that was noticeably different from what the rest of his race wore. It was only evidence of his status.

But the Chief didn't care as he charged from his hiding spot. The creature was clueless as the Spartan rammed into him. He grabbed the creature's armor and spun him around, slamming into the rock surface of the overhanging cliff. One hand on his victim's chest and the other bringing up his magnum, the Master Chief neared his face to other's until it was only an inch apart. The amber eyes of the Arbiter narrowed at his attacker.

"What is the meaning of this?" he rasped.

"Talk," the Spartan demanded.

"I will, as long as you tell me what I am supposed to say."

"Where is Ian?"

The veteran Elite tilted his head. "You care for him more than your precious construct?"

"I already know where she is," the Chief shot back. "And I _will _find her. Now tell me about Ian!"

The Arbiter snickered a bit. "I doubt that."

By now the human was annoyed, pressing the alien harder onto the rock and bringing his gun closer. "Where. Is. Ian."

"He is safe," the Arbiter croaked finally.

"Wasn't my question."

"Virl 'Sadumee has taken him to a safe location. He is no longer threatened by the Covenant or humanity."

"Threatened by humanity?"

"You put him in more danger than protection."

The Chief felt insulted by the remark, but the Arbiter went on before he could reply.

"You were brave to fight for him," the Sangheili praised. "But what would you have done if you did save him? Put him aside on this planet as we conquer and destroy it?"

The Spartan knew what the Arbiter meant by "we." He didn't mean the Sangheili or the Covenant, but more like outsiders in general. Though the soldier narrowed his eyes, not liking the point. But he swallowed his pride and gently released his captive, letting go of the creature's armor and stepping away.

The Arbiter got to his feet and regained his balance. He calmly patted some collected dust off his armor. He didn't seem very offended, or if he was, he was good at hiding it.

"I was asked to pass on a message to you," he announced. "From Ian."

"What is it?" the Chief asked.

"He requests for you not to look for him. That he _is _safe and that he wishes to start again. Though, he wants it clear that he thanks all of humanity for what you have done for him, and he will always be loyal."

"Is that all?"

The Arbiter glanced at him. "Actually there is one more phrase. He said, "Finish the fight. Kill those bastards.'"

* * *

**And that's the end of my Halo fanfiction! Sorry if you're disappointed that I didn't explain what exactly happened to Ian, but I'm sure it all leads to the same conclusion. Thank you to all who have followed/favorited this story!**

**I actually intended for this to be a single, but I ****_do _****have a few ideas for a sequel. I'll see if I'll get to it later or not. Leave a review if you want a sequel or not, I'll even accept negatives.**

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